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AND  SHEPARD'S 

i>  Star  Juveniles 

Mkssrs.  Lee  and  Shepard  announce  the  following  new  line  of  12mo  Juveniles, 
consisting  of  books  by  Kellogg,  Kingston,  Ballantyne,  Headley, 
and  others.  Printed  on  a  line  qualit)'  of  paper,  fully  illustrated,  and  bound 
in  the  best  English  cloth,  at  $1.00  per  volume. 

By  ELIJAH  KELLOGG. 

Lion  Ben  of  Elm  Island. 

Charlie  Bell ;   The  Waif  of  Elm  Island. 

The  Ark  of  Elm  Island. 

The  Boy  Farmers  of  Elm  Island. 

The  Youni?  Shipbuilders  of  Elm  Island. 

The  Hardscrabble  of  Elm  Island. 

Sowed  by  the  Wind ;  or,  The  Poor  Boy's  Fortune. 

Wolf  Run ;  or,  The  Boys  of  the  Wilderness. 

Brought  to  the  Front ;  or,  The  Young  Defenders. 

The  Mission  of  Black  Rifle ;  or.  On  the  Trail. 

Forest  Glen ;  or.  The  Mohawk's  Friendship. 

Burying  the  Hatchet ;  or,  The  Young  Brave  of  the  Delawares. 

A  Strong  Arm  and  a  Mother's  Blessing. 

The  Unseen  Hand;  or,  James  Renfew  and  his  Boy  Helpers. 

The  Live  Oak  Boys ;  or.  The  Adventures  of  Richard  Constable 
Afloat  and  Ashore. 

Arthur  Brown,  the  Young  Captain. 

The  Young  Deliverers  of  Pleasant  Cove. 

The  Cruise  of  the  Casco. 

The  Child  of  the  Island  Glen. 

John  Godsoe's  Legacy. 

The  Fisher  Boys  of  Pleasant  Cove. 

A  Stout  Heart ;  or.  The  Student  from  Over  the  Sea. 

A  Spark  of  Genius ;  or.  The  College  Life  of  James  Trafton. 

The  Sophomores  of  Radcliffe ;  or,  James  Trafton  and  his  Boa- 
ton  Friends. 

The  Whispering  Pine ;  or.  The  Graduates  of  Radcliffe. 

The  Turning  of  the  Tide ;  or,  Radcliffe  Rich  and  his  Patients. 

Winning  his  Spurs ;  or,  Henry  Morton's  First  Trial. 

TJy  P.  C.  HEADLEY. 
Fight  it  out  on  this  Line ;  The  Life  and  Deeds  of  Gen.  U.  S.  Grant. 
Facing  the  Enemy ;  The  Life  of  Gen.  William  Tecumseh  Sher- 

mq,n. 
Fighting  Phil ;  The  Life  of  Lieut.-Gen.  Philip  Henry  Sheridan. 
Old  Salamander  ;  The  Life  of  Admiral  David  Glascoe  Farragut. 
The  Miner  Boy  and  his  Monitor ;  The  Career  of  John  Ericsson, 

Engineer. 
Old  Stars ;  The  Life  of  Major-Gen.  Ormaby  McKnight  Mitchel. 


By  GEORGE  MAKEPEACE  TOWLB. 
Heroes  and  Martyrs  of  Invention. 
Vasco  da  Gama ;  His  Voyages  and  Adventures. 
Piaarro;  His  Adventures  and  Conquests. 
Magellan ;  or,  The  First  Voyage  Round  the  World. 
Marco  Polo;  His  Travels  and  Adventures. 
Raleigh;  His  Voysjges  and  Adventures. 
Drake ;  The  Sea  King  of  Devon. 

By  CAPT.  CHARLES  W.  HALL. 
Adrift  in  the  Ice  Fields. 

By  DR.  ISAAC  I.  HAYES. 
Cast  Away  in  the  Cold;  An  Old  Man's  Story  of  a  Young  Man'* 
Adventures. 

By  W.   H.  G.  KINGSTON. 
The  Adventures  of  Dick  Onslow  among  the  Redskins. 
Ernest  Brace^ridge;  or.  School  Boy  Days. 


By  JAMES  D.  McCABE  JR. 
Planting  the  Wilderness ;  or,  The  Pioneer  Boys. 


By  DR.  C.  H    PEARSON. 
The  Cabin  on  the  Prairie. 
The  Young  Pioneers  of  the  Northwest. 

By  JAMES  DE  MILLE. 
The  Lily  and  the  Cross  ;  A  Tale  of  Acadia. 


By  P.  G.  ARMSTRONG. 
The   Young  Middy:    or,    The   Perilous   Avdentures   of  a   Boy 
Omcer. 

By  R.  M.  BALLANTYNE. 
The  Lire  Boat ;  A  Tale  of  Our  Coast  Heroes. 


Se7it  by  mail,  postpaid,  on  receipt  (f  price. 


Lee  and  Shepard,  Publishers,  Bostom 


The  Surprise.    Page  15. 


Ul  ^  SHEPARD. 


THE  7^/?, a^  J ikR \  S  f?,fe^ sis.'. 


THE 


YOUNG   PIONEERS 


THE  NORTH-WEST 


BY 

DR.  C.  H.  PEARSON, 

AUTHOR  OF  "the  CABIN  ON  THE  PRAIRIE,"  ETC 


ILLUSTRATED. 


BOSTON    1802 
LEE     AND     SHEPARD     PUBLISHERS 

10  MILK  STREET  NEXT  "  THE  OLD  SOUTH  MEETING  HOUbH  " 

NEW  YORK  CHAS.  T.  DILLINGHAM 

718    AND    720    BROADWAY 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1870, 

By  lee  and  SIIKPAKD, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington- 


CONTENTSc 


Chapter  Page 
I.    The  Fairy  of  the  Fort.  —  Pleasure  and  Sor- 
row         •         -9 

II.     A  Riderless  Pony. — The  Buffalo  Wallow.     22 

III.  The    Flight    from    the    Wigwam,  —  Indian 

Watch-dogs 34 

IV.  The  Tragedy  on  the  River 41 

V.    The  Little  Hunchback.  —  Aunt  Esther,  the 

Immigrant .48 

VI.     The  Immigrant  Wagon 62 

VII.     Burr-oak  Cider .76 

VIII.     Tom's  Ride  continued.  — The  Chief's  Daugh- 
ter. —  Singular  Adventure.         .        .        .89 
IX.     Hog's  Back.  —  The  Solitary  Horseman.           .     96 
X.    A  Night  on  the  Prairie. — Danger.        .        .111 
XI.     A  Pioneer  Boy's  Opinion  of  the  East.  —  Dis- 
appointment  121 

XII.    The  Dwarf's  Discovery.  —  Brain  or  Bone.      .  137 

966495  7 


8  CONTENTS. 

XIII.  A  Strange  Visitc».  —  The  Man   in  the 

Chimney  Corner 146 

XIV.  Second  Impressions.  —  Aunt  Esther  and 

THE  Ploughmen 160 

XV.     One  Swallow  does  not  make  a  Summer.  — 

Tribulations  of  a  Fat  Man.  .        .        .  171 
XVI.     Frankie's   Secret.  —  The  Invisible  Pur- 
suer   184 

XVII.     Grubbing.  —  Honest  Mr.  Grey.         .        .  198 

XVIII.    John  Tower's  Town.  —  A  Wedding  Tour.  213 
XIX.     The  Wrong  Cabin.  —  The  Couple  under 

THE  Umbrella 230 

XX.     The  Circle  in  the  Lodge.  —  Wakan'.      .  241 
XXI.     Aunt  Esther's  Trouble.  —  The  Lamp  in 

THE  Window 256 

XXII.    An  Indian  Lover.  —  The  Magic  Mocca- 

soNS 263 

XXIII.  Forebodings.  —  Shingling  the  Cabin.      .  272 

XXIV.  The  Silent  Boatmen 281 

XXV.    The  Captive  Maiden.  ....  290 

XXVI.     A  Bird-Song  in  the  Night.         .        .        .     303 
XXVII.     Black  Nancy  shouts.  —  A  Dream.  —  The 

two  Savages 309 

XXVIII.     The  Mystery  of  the   Moccasons. --The 

Man  with  the  I«antern.        .        .        .    323 


THE  YOUNG  PIONEERS, 


CHAPTER  i:-.'  A  I,  ]yo9.  i^n 

THE  FAIRY  OF  THE  FORT. PLEASURE  AND 

SORROW. 

"  Why  don't  he  come  ?  "  and  Alice  McElroy's 
fingers  glided  impatiently  over  the  keys  of  the 
piano-forte. 

She  glanced  again  into  the  square  below. 
There  stood  pony,  saddled  and  bridled,  pawing 
the  paved  court,  restlessly  awaiting  the  presence 
of  his  young  mistress. 

The  morning  was  superb  —  a  cloudless  Min- 
nesota sky  of  intensest  blue  ;  the  air  dry,  balmy, 
bracing,  delicious ;  the  velvet  green  of  the  im- 
mense prairie  prismatic  with  glistening  dew- 
drops. 

As  the  fair-browed  maiden  skipped  to  the  other 
side  of  the  fort  building,  and  gazed  from  the 
window  upon  the  scene,  she  drank  in  its  won- 
drous beauty  with  a  wild  delight. 

9 


lO  THK    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

The  frontier  fortress  was  built  on  a  swell  of 
land  remarkable  for  prairie  land.  One  would 
think  that  nature  designed  it  for  just  such  a  struc- 
ture as  crowned  it  with  the  murderous  munitions 
of  war.  Strange  that  in  the  heart  of  that  vast 
savanna  there  should  rise  a  huge  mound,  or 
half  hill,,. of  height  and  circumference  sufficient 
to  command  thp  entire  wide-stretching  landscape. 
■'^CV<?r!  jt;his  ilv'>wer-enamelled  plain,  sloping  from 
tlie  fort  on  every  side  to  the  arching  horizon, 
the  kindling  eye  of  the  young  girl  wandered 
with  worshipful  enthusiasm. 

"I  shall  wait  no  longer!"  she  exclaimed,  de- 
cisively. "Charley  has  been  set  to  some  task,  I 
warrant,  and  there's  no  guessing  when  he'll  get 
through.  What's  the  use  of  always  having  a 
ooy  escort.  As  if  I  cannot  take  care  of  myself! 
There  are  no  Indians  about  now.  I  shall  go 
alone  for  once.  Pony  is  as  good  company  as  I 
wish." 

And  tripping  down  stairs,  and  out  into  the 
court,  she  mounted  her  miniature  steed.  There 
was  a  clattering  of  dainty  hoofs,  and  she  was 
fl3ang  across  the  plain. 

These  early  morning  rides  were  Alice  McEl- 
roy's  special  pleasure.  Horseback  exercise  on 
the  open  prairie  had  been  prescribed  by  the  fort 
physician  on  account  of  the  delicacy  of  her  con- 
stitution,  and  the   cough,   which,  though  slight 


THE    FAIRY    OF   THE    FORT.  II 

ftnd  inconstant,  gave  him,  of  late,  some  con- 
cern. 

But  never  before  had  she  gone  without  an  at- 
tendant. And  as  Mrs.  Jones  discharged  the  du- 
ties of  governess  to  the  McElroy  children,  Alice 
and  Willie,  and  she  knew  her  own  son  Charley 
to  be  brave,  manly,  and  discreet  beyond  his  years, 
he  was  often  detailed  to  accompany  Alice. 

As  we  have  seen,  Alice  expected  Charley  to 
attend  her  on  this  occasion.  But  as  he  did  not 
promptly  make  his  appearance,  glad  to  assert 
her  independence,  she  ventured  without  him. 

The  truth  is,  Alice,  although  affectionate  and 
noble,  was  towards  Charley  petulant  and  inno- 
cently imperious  at  times.  What  queer  creatures 
girls  are,  indeed  !  Mr.  Jones,  with  his  family, 
occupied  a  log  cabin  near  Spirit  Lake  at  the  time 
of  the  fearful  Indian  uprising,  and  Charley  dis- 
tinguished himself  there  by  his  romantic  adven- 
tures and  heroic  conduct  —  a  mere  lad  that  he 
was.  He  was,  therefore,  petted  by  the  soldiers, 
and  fairly  doted  on  by  Alice's  mother  and  Gener- 
al McElroy,  commander  of  the  forces  at  the  Fort. 

Alice  also  liked  him  as  a  playmate,  and  ad- 
mired his  fine  qualities ;  but  to  have  a  boy  for 
guide  and  protector  on  her  prairie  expeditions, 
and  she  a  young  lady  in  her  teens,  "what  an 
idea  !  " 

With  an  exuberant  sense  of  freedom  from  re- 


12  THE    YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

straint,  and  of  superiority  to  juvenile  guardian- 
ship, Alice  dashed  along,  now  putting  pony  to  a 
round  trot,  now  to  a  full  gallop,  then  resting  the 
reins  on  his  glossy  neck,  permitting  him  to  take 
his  own  way — just  as  she  was  doing  with  so 
much  comfort  to  herself. 

Between  pony  and  rider  there  was  perfect  sym- 
pathy. An  intelligence  and  devotion  almost  hu- 
man characterized  the  wee  horse.  It  was  a  rare 
animal,  —  a  thorough-bred  specimen  of  a  species 
once  famous  but  now  nearly  or  quite  extinct  in 
this  country,  — for  which  the  general  paid  a  fab- 
ulous sum,  presenting  him  as  a  birthday  gift  to 
his  only  daughter  for  her  sole  use. 

Never  was  beast  better  loved  and  treated. 
Winding  her  white  arms  around  his  curved  neck, 
she  would  talk  to  him  as  if  he  understood  each 
word.  And  are  we  certain  he  did  not?  You 
could  not  make  Alice  think  him  so  stupid.  She  fed 
him  with  dainties  from  the  table,  and  plucked  for 
his  mouth  the  sweetest  grass-tufts.  And  her  voice, 
her  step,  her  hand  were  "all  the  world"  to  him. 

How  pony  drooped  with  failing  appetite  when 
for  three  weary  weeks  his  gentle  little  mistress 
lay  sick  !  When,  convalescing,  she  was  support- 
ed to  the  window,  it  was  affecting  to  watch  him 
as  he  waited  beneath  the  sill  for  the  feeble  '.vord 
of  recognition  from  her  pallid  lips.  And  when 
she  first  stepped  out  of  doors,  pony  rushed  fran- 


THE    FAIRY    OF   THE    FORT.  I3 

tically  to  her  side,  and  would  not  be  pacified, 
despite  the  outcries  and  protestations  of  the 
frightened  nurse,  until  she  repeated  his  name  and 
caressingly  laid  her  soft  hand  on  his  forehead. 

Pony  took  short  steps,  but  nimble,  and  got  over 
the  ground  much  faster  than  some  longer  limbed 
coursers  I  have  seen.  He  liked  so  to  go — no 
working  one's  passage,  whip  or  spur-wise,  with 
him. 

Doubtless  high  feeding  and  light  work  has 
much  to  do  with  the  muscular  thrill  of  speed  ex- 
perienced by  the  well-handled  and  mettlesome 
steed.  But  the  loved  form  on  pony's  back,  so 
graceful  and  unburdensome,  full  of  glee,  praised 
and  patted  him,  and  encouraged  his  best  efforts ; 
and  away,  away  he  sped,  the  fairy  rider's  eyes 
sparkling  and  cheeks  abloom,  and  wavy  silken 
tresses  floating  on  the  breeze,  as  the}^  skimmed 
along,  unmindful  alike  of  distance  and  of  time. 

Alice  McElroy  gave  a  sudden  start,  when  at 
length  she  descried  just  before  her  a  piece  of 
woods.  Had  she  ridden  so  far?  She  saw  no 
trees  from  the  fort,  only  commingled  grass  and 
flowers  extending  like  a  sea  of  verdure  to  the 
bending  sky.  But  pony  was  sweating.  How 
nice,  she  thought,  to  rest  a  while  in  the  leafy 
shade,  before  returning ! 

Riding  in  among  the  trees,  she  stopped  tlie 
horse  a  moment,  listened  and  gazed  about,  to  be 


14  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

sure  no  danger  was  near.  How  silent  the  shel- 
tering retreat !  Not  a  sound  broke  the  pervasive 
stillness,  save  a  plaintive  bird  chirup  in  the  dim 
solitude. 

"O,  isn't  it  perfectly  lovely!"  she  ejaculated. 
"  And  yonder's  a  river.  How  clear  and  smooth 
the  water  is  I  And  what  splendid  flowers,  — 
there's  the  cardinal  flower,  if  I  live,  —  magnifi- 
cent !  Now,  pony,"  she  added,  dismounting,  and 
leaving  the  reins  loose,  "you  just  get  cool, — 
don't  wander  off,  —  mind,  now,  while  I  gather  a 
bouquet  for  darling  mother  and  my  dear  good 
governess ;  then   we'll   start  for  home." 

At  which  pony,  with  contented  air,  fell  to  nib- 
bling the  grass,  displaying  his  nice  taste  by  nip- 
ping, too,  a  bright  blossom  now  and  then,  out  of 
regard,  perhaps,  to  Alice  ;  and  she,  with  an  occa- 
sional glance  at  him,  to  be  positive  he  staid  near, 
strolled  by  the  river  brink  culling  flowers.  They 
grew  in  tempting  profusion,  and  she  soon  had  a 
bountiful  store.  And  reclining  on  the  yielding 
moss,  among  the  feathery  ferns,  she  began  to 
arrange  the  wild-springing  beauties. 

"  Perfectly  beautiful  I "  she  murmured.  "Won't 
mother  and  Mrs.  Jones  be  surprised  when  they 
learn  how  far  pony  and  I  have  been  to-day  all 
alone  !  " 

"Pony,  are  you  there?  Yes,  I  see  you  now. 
You're  a  dear  good  pony  I      How  much  nicer 


PLEASURE   AND   SORROW.  1 5 

it  IS  to  ride  all  alone  !  One  can  do  just  as  one 
pleases.  Besides,  Charley  is  so  boyish  !  There's 
Tom,  now ; "  and  a  slight  flush  crept  to  her 
temples ;  **  how  grand  it  was,  his  pushing  off 
the  cliff  that  horrible  savage  that  was  creeping 
up  to  murder  him  !  " 

At  this  point  she  stopped  soliloquizing,  and 
hummed  to  herself  a  while, 

''Yes,  Tom's  studying  to  be  a  minister.  I  sup- 
pose he  wouldn't  dare  to  play  as  Charley  does. 
Soldiers  can  play,  but  ministers  must  pray.** 
Then  she  laughed.  **  I  shouldn't  like  to  do  noth- 
ing but  preach,  and  pray,  and  think  about  an- 
other world,  about  preparing  to  die.  Death  is 
frightful ;  though,  if  one  is  good  enough  to  go  to 
heaven,  and  old — but  I'm  onl}^  —  *' 

A  slight  rustling  of  the  bushes  snapped  the 
thread  of  her  musing ;  a  heavy  hand  was  laid 
on  her  shoulder ;  she  glanced  backward  ;  a  hide- 
ous savage  bent  over  her.  The  blood  seemed  to 
freeze  in  her  veins  at  the  sight.  She  attempted 
to  scream,  but  the  sound  died  on  her  lips.  Her 
eyes  became  fixed  and  glassy.  The  Indian's 
face  wore  a  fiendish  expression,  as  he  held  his 
tomahawk  above  her  head.  She  tried  to  fall  on 
her  knees  and  beg  for  mercy.  Then  Indian, 
trees,  water,  swam  confusedly  round.  Her  eyes 
closed  in  darkness  and  insensibility. 

The  savage  for  a  moment  looked  down  upon 


l6  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

the  rigid  features  of  the  white  girl  as  if  unde- 
cided whether  to  strike  or  not.  That  doubt 
arrested  the  descending  weapon.  Something 
connected  with    her  dress  caught  his   attention. 

^'^Ugh,"  he  grunted,  and,  stooping,  detached 
from  her  belt  a  shining  gold  chain  and  locket, 
the  latter  containing  the  likeness  of  her  mother. 

This  appeared  to  turn  the  current  of  his  inten- 
tions; for,  taking  the  girl  in  his  arms,  he  bore 
her  a  short  distance  up  the  river  side,  dragged  a 
canoe  from  out  the  thick  shrubbery,  placed  her 
in  it,  gave  it  a  quick  running  push,  and  dexter- 
ously jumping  in  after,  paddled  the  light  boat 
along. 

When  Alice  recovered  her  consciousness,  she 
found  herself  lying  alone  in  the  bottom  of  a 
canoe,  and  an  ugly-featured  Indian  sitting  in 
front  of  her. 

At  first  she  deemed  it  a  dream.  Then,  bewil- 
dered, she  rubbed  her  eyes  with  her  hands  to  be 
certain  she  was  awake.  Soon,  like  lightning 
flash,  the  horror  of  her  condition  broke  in  upon 
her  mind.  In  a  frenzy  of  fear  she  roused  her- 
self to  attempt  escape. 

"Squaw,  keep  still!"  spoke  the  Indian,  an- 
grily. "Think  swim,  run,  get 'way?  No.  Wa- 
ter deep.     Injun  killee  you  !  " 

"Dear,  good  Indian/'  pleaded  the  terrified 
girl,  "don't  kill  me.  Take  me  back;  let  me  go 
home,  and  father'll  give  you  —  '* 


PLEASURE   AND    SORROW.  Xf 

**  Squaw  speak  no  one  word  more  I "  grunted 
the  savage,  with  an  ominous  look. 

O,  the  agony  of  that  moment  to  the  captive  ! 
How  she  wrestled  with  her  emotions,  striving  not 
to  provoke  her  fierce  captor  by  unavailing  out- 
cries I 

Crouching  in  the  swift-moving,  fragile  craft, 
as  it  shot  through  the  dim  woods,  now  hidden  by 
the  pendent  branches,  now  lighted  by  ruddy  sun- 
beams, hurried  on  to  what  fate  she  knew  not, 
minutes  were  as  ages. 

By  and  by  they  came  to  shoal  water.  The 
Indian  now  laid  his  paddle  in  the  bottom  of  the 
canoe,  and  employed  a  long  pole  to  propel  with. 
Soon  he  stranded  the  airy  vessel,  and  ordered 
her  to  get  out.  Easily  lifting  the  canoe  on  his 
shoulders,  and  driving  her  before  him,  they 
tramped  a  long  way  through  the  woods,  away 
from  the  water. 

At  last  they  came  to  a  spot  not  covered  with 
trees.  Back  of  it,  and  somewhat  remote,  w^as  a 
lineof  smoke  rising,  indicative  of  an  Indian  village. 

But  the  Indian  did  not  take  her  there.  Turn- 
ing to  the  left,  they  struck  into  the  forest  again, 
continuing  their  journey  till  they  reached  an  old 
tumble-down  wigwam.  Entering,  he  pointed 
Alice  to  a  corner,  took  from  a  pouch  at  his  side 
a  thick  piece  of  smoked  venison,  tore  off  a  strip 
with  his  teeth,  handed  it  to  AHce,  saying, — 
2 


l8  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

"  Squaw  hungry  ;  eat !  " 

Alice  was  faint  from  fear  and  fasting,  but  too 
wretched  to  partake  of  the  untempting  food. 
Dreading,  however,  to  arouse  his  resentment, 
she  tasted  a  morsel,  and  concealed  the  remainder. 

When  night  fell,  her  captor  stretched  himself 
on  the  ground  in  his  blanket,  near  the  entrance 
to  the  wigwam,  and  was  shortly  asleep. 

O,  the  long,  long  watch  that  night  to  Alice ! 
She  could  not  sleep.  The  heavy  snoring  of  the 
savage  in  the  gloomy  wigwam,  the  hooting  of 
the  screech-owl  and  howling  of  the  wolf  without, 
the  tumult  of  fright,  grief,  and  foreboding  within 
her  throbbing  breast,  thoughts  of  her  father's  and 
mother's  distress  because  of  her  prolonged  and 
mysterious  absence,  —  under  these  circumstances 
her  eyes  were  as  wide  open  as  if  they  never 
could  close  again,  and  her  brain  active  well  nigh 
to  insanity. 

She  was  still  awake  when  the  pioneer  streaks 
of  morning  penetrated  the  hut.  After  a  while  the 
savage  bestirred  himself,  arose,  lighted  a  filthy 
pipe,  seated  himself  in  front  of  her,  cross-legged, 
and  smoked  in  grim  silence. 

With  sharpened  intuitions,  Alice  studied  his 
physiognomy,  to  discover,  if  possible,  some  hu- 
man quality  to  which  she  might  appeal.  But 
the  paint-streaked  copper-face  staring  stolidl}^ 
at  her,  though  evidently  that  of  a  youngish  war- 


PLEASURE    AND    SORROW.  I9 

rior,  was  repulsive  and  malignant  in  the  ex- 
treme. 

"Where  am  I?"  gasped  the  girl,  at  length, 
with  clasped  hands. 

"In  wigwam,"  laconically  replied  her  captor. 

"Yes,"  answered  Alice,  startled  at  the  sound 
of  her  own  voice,  "  but,  I  mean,  how  far  from 
the  fort?" 

"  Twenty,  fifty,  hunderd  mile ;  big  way ;  no 
git  back,  never  !  " 

"  O,  do  carry  me  there,"  cried  she.  "You 
shall  have  money,  anything.  My  father  is  Gen- 
eral McElroy ;  he'll  pay  you  all  you  ask,  and 
more  too  !  " 

But  at  mention  of  her  father's  name  a  terrible 
scowl  corrugated  the  brow  of  the  savage,  and, 
emitting  great  puffs  of  smoke,  he  muttered,  — 

"Injun  no  do  it.  White  chief  kill  Injuns, 
many  !  " 

Alice  poured  forth  a  flood  of  entreaties,  sob- 
bing heart-brokenly. 

The  savage  drew  his  scalping-knife,  bent  a 
threatening  gaze  on  her,  and  said,  — 

"  Squaw  hold  tongue  ;  Injun  cuttee  out  I  " 

And  the  girl  was  silent  and  hopeless,  but 
shook  with  an  aguish  terror,  her  sad  eyes  fixed 
on  her  captor,  full  of  anguish  and  supplication 
more   moving  than  speech. 

The  Indian  puffed  serenely  at  his  pipe  a  while 


20  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

longer,  then,  putting  it  by,  drew  from  his  dirty 
pouch  more  dried  meat,  and  tossing  her  a  portion, 
commanded  her  to  eat.  This  time,  half  fam- 
ished, she  obeyed,  which  appeared  to  please  her 
captor,  who,  after  regarding  her  intently,  as  if 
deciding  a  matter  of  importance  concerning  her, 
said,  peremptorily, — 

"  Squaw  stay  in  wigwam  !  "  and  disappeared 
in  the  woods. 

Alice,  with  beating  heart,  watched  the  fadirtg 
figure  of  the  savage  till  lost  to  view. 

Where  was  he  going?  How  soon  would  he 
come  back  ?  When  he  reappeared,  what  would  be 
her  destiny?  If  he  did  not  return,  what  then? 
Alone  in  the  wilderness,  without  food  or  fire,  and 
no  means  of  procuring  either  !  It  was  frightful  to 
expect  his  return,  and  starvation  if  he  staid  away. 

The  appalling  novelty  of  her  position  brolight 
into  ascendency  a  new  class  of  feelings.  She 
had  a  bright  intellect,  and  military  blood  coursed 
in  her  veins.  Reason  and  courage  reasserted 
themselves. 

"  If  I  perish,  I  will  do  so  trying  to  escape," 
she  resolved.  And  strong  in  this  purpose,  and 
buoyant  with  a  sensation  of  freedom  now  that 
the  Indian  was  away,  in  her  eagerness  she  ran 
into  the  forest. 

But  suddenly  stopping,  she  pressed  her  hand 
to  her  forehead   in  deep  thought.     Which  way 


PLEASURE    AND    SORROW.  31: 

should  she  go  ?  Grave  question  that.  Sinking 
to  her  knees,  and  whispering  an  earnest  prayer 
for  guidance  and  protection,  she  hurried  into  the 
hut,  picked  up  the  venisoii  she  threw  away  the 
night  before,  and  set  out  on  her  perilous  and  un- 
certain undertaking. 


22  THE    YOUNG   PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER    11. 

A  RIDERLESS  PONY. THE  BUFFALO  WALLOW. 

Pony  appreciated  the  tender  herbage,  and  the 
grateful  shade  of  the  wildwood,  for  he  was  "  a 
dear  lover  of  nature,"  after  his  manner,  and  per- 
haps would  have  voted,  if  admitted  to  the  right 
of  suffrage,  to  spend  the  remainder  of  the  season 
there,  could  winsome  Alice  be  near.  He  might 
cast  his  ballot  thus,  were  it  not  for  two  objections 
—  the  grain  he  would  miss  and  the  titbits  from 
the  McElroy  table,  and  the  insects  that  abounded 
in  the  forest. 

Flourish,  and  flirt,  and  lash  his  luxuriant  tail, 
shake  his  comely  mane,  toss  his  shapely  head, 
stamp  his  delicate  feet,  suddenly  trot  to  a  fresh 
place,  no  matter  what  violence  or  strategy  he 
used,  the  hungry  flies  would  persist  in  trying  to 
suck  the  life-current  through  his  sleek  skin.  In 
fact,  his  exertions,  whether  offensive  or  defensive, 
increased  his  troubles,  attracting  his  foes  from 
afar,  till  the  air  swarmed  with  whizzing,  buzzing, 
trumpeting  blood-suckers. 

Strange,  is  it  not,  that  so  insignificant  a  trifle 


A   RIDERLESS   PONY.  2^ 

as  a  tiny  fly  can  so  harass  and  baffle  a  quadruped 
heavy  enough  to  outweigh  milHons  on  milHons  ot 
such  enemies? 

Pony  endured  the  torture  and  fought  the  bat- 
tle with  as  much  patience  and  valor  as,  perchance, 
you  or  I  would,  were  we  subject  to  his  annoy- 
ance. But  even  horseflesh  will  not  bear  every- 
thing ;  and  pony,  desirous  of  permanent  relief, 
darted  out  from  under  the  ravenous  cloud  of  piti- 
less parasites,  and  trotted  to  where  he  left  his 
gentle  young  mistress,  attaining  the  flowery  bank 
where  she  had  sat,  and  uttering  a  questioning 
whinny  simultaneously,  as  much  as  to  say,  — 

"Please,  Miss  Alice,  shall  we  not  hasten  out 
upon  the  breezy  prairies  ?  " 

But  the  pretty  wee  animal  saw  no  Alice 
there  ! 

He  snorted,  pricked  forward  his  tremulous 
ears,  smelt  of  the  earth,  then  of  the  bunches  of 
flowers  ;  neighed  loud  and  shrill ;  waited,  trem- 
bling with  excitement,  for  the  familiar  reply,  — ■ 
furiously  shaking  his  head  and  whisking  his  tail 
the  while  at  the  pursuing  insects,  —  dashed  down 
the  river  bank,  scenting  the  ground  as  he  went, 
like  a  hound  on  the  track  ;  turned,  and  smelt  up 
along  the  border  of  the  stream ;  paused  sud- 
denly, as  if  to  deliberate,  then  wildly  wheeled 
about,  and,  with  mad  swiftness,  struck  a  straight 
course  for  the  fort. 


24  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

How  wonderful  is  instinct !  What  so  excited 
pony?  Why  did  he  hunt  for  a  trail  that  should 
guide  to  the  missing  girl?  Why  his  alarm  and 
concern?  What  caused  him  precipitately  to  re- 
linquish the  search,  and  speed  homeward  as  if 
on  an  errand  of  life  or  death?  Ah,  if  the  dumb, 
yet  ofttimes  singularly  intelligent  brutes  could  all 
speak,  as  did  the  prophet's  wiser  beast,  what 
might  we  not  learn  from  their  now  sealed  lips ! 
What  an  infinite  gulf  between  their  inarticulate 
muteness  and  human  speech  !  O,  what  our  con- 
dition, were  we  like  them  unable,  as  a  race,  to 
embody  our  thoughts  in  words  !  God  be  praised 
for  the  gift  of  speech,  for  who  but  He  give  it  us 
and  denied  it  to  them  ? 

"  Miss  Alice,  whar'  you  be?  "  and  black  Nan^ 
cy's  ebony  face  peered  into  closets,  clothes- 
presses,  behind  doors,  and  under  beds.  "  Now 
you  jist  stop  foolin' !  Dinner's  bin  coolin'  more'n 
half  an  hour,  and  3^er  father  and  mother  are  that 
worried.  Can't  yer  make  strouble  'nough  widout 
hidin'  away  when  eberyting  is  a  spilin' !  Come, 
honey,  dat's  a  good  girl ;  come  eat  yer  dinner." 

But  remonstrate,  scold,  reason,  and  coax  as 
the  affectionate  negress  would,  there  was  no 
answer. 

Perseveringly  the  servant  continued  her  search, 
ihoping  each  instant  that  from  some  place  of  con- 


A   RIDERLESS    PONY.  25 

cealment  her  frolicsome  charge  would  spring 
torth  as  she  was  wont,  and,  with  ringing  peals 
of  laughter,  fling  her  dimpled  arms  around  her 
neck  with  a  kiss,  or  scamper  through  the  halls, 
challenging  pursuit. 

The  colored  waitress's  brow  became  knitted 
with  anxiety,  and  reentering  the  dining-room, 
she  said,  — 

"  Please,  marm,  I  can't  find  Miss  Alice  no 
whar !  " 

"O,  well,"  pleasantly  returned  the  lady,  "she 
is  probably  in  at  Mrs.  Colonel  Thomas's.  You 
just  step  across  the  square,  and  inquire." 

The  general  and  his  wife  were  rising  from  the 
table  when  black  Nancy  returned,  reporting  that 
she  had  visited  all  the  officers'  rooms,  and  could 
get  no  tidings  of  Alice. 

"  It  is  certainly  very  strange,"  observed  Mrs. 
McElroy,  going  to  the  window.  "  But  what  does 
this  mean?"  she  quickly  added,  as  the  sound  of 
a  horse's  feet  smote  upon  the  ear.  "  Pony  has 
rushed  into  the  yard,  covered  with  sweat  and 
foam,  saddle  and  bridle  on,  but  riderless  ! " 

"  Call  Charley,"  gravely  said  the  general. 

The  lad  instantly  made  his  appearance. 

"  Charley,"  asked  the  general,  "  have  you 
been  to  ride  with  Alice  to-day?" 

"No,  sir,"  he  replied. 

"  Do  you  know  if  she  went?" 


•26  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"  I  do  not." 

Black  Nancy  now  recalled  with  dismay-,  that 
Alice  apprised  her,  the  night  before,  that  she  in- 
tended to  ride  in  the  morning,  requesting  her  to 
tell  Charley  to  be  ready  to  attend  her,  all  of 
which  had  been  forgotten  till  this  moment. 

"  I  fear  she  ventured  alone,  and  something  has 
happened  to  her,"  remarked  the  mother,  turning 
pale.  "When  did  you  first,  miss  her  from  the 
house,  Nancy?" 

"  Dunno,  missus,  zactly.  'Parently  'twas 
'bout  eight,  missus,  when  de  hat  was  taken  from 
de  place  whar  —  " 

"  Eight  o'clock  ;  who  was  on  guard,  husband, 
at  the  gate,  then?" 

"  Call  private  O'Connor,"  said  the  general. 

"  O'Connor,  did  my  daughter  pass  out  on  her 
pony  when  you  were  on  duty  this  morning?" 
asked  the  general,  as  that  worthy  entered. 

"  An'  indade  did  she,  the  blissed  crayther," 
answered  the  Hibernian. 

"Was  any  one  with  her?" 

"Not  a  sowl,  yer  honor,  save  her  own  swate 
self,  sure ;  an',  says  I,  the  Howly  Vargin  be 
praised,  but  if  there's  a  saint  in  heaven,  sure  an' 
she's  that  same,  her  hair  stramin'  an'  her  eyes 
sparklin',  a  ridin'  off  so  light  an'  aisy  —  " 

"Rub  down  the  pony,  and  put  him  up," 
sharply  interrupted  the  general.  Then  address- 
ing his  weeping  wife,  he  said,  — 


A    RIDERLESS   PONY.  2*J 

■  ^  Don't  distress  yourself,  dear  ;  I  will  go  out  al 
once  with  men  enough  to  scour  the  prairies  far 
and  near.     We  shall  certainly  find  her." 

As  if  by  electricity,  the  sad  news  of  the  loss  of 
Alice  went  through  the  fortress,  and,  as  if  by 
magic,  a  force  duly  instructed,  well  mounted, 
and  provisioned  so  as  to  be  able,  if  necessary,  to 
remain  through  the  night,  was  departing  for  the 
search,  each  member  of  the  expedition  ambi- 
tious of  being  the  one  to  restore  the  missing  girl 
to  her  parents. 

As  the  company  left,  O'Connor  was  leisurely 
grooming  pony.  A  remarkable  insubordination 
seized  the  little  animal. 

Jerking  at  the  halter,  and  kicking  with  both 
hind  heels  to  impart  force  to  the  jerks,  and  at  the 
same  time  keep  the  Irishman  at  bay,  the  strap 
parted,  and  pony,  at  liberty,  started  after  the 
soldiers. 

"  Howld,  howld,  ye  baste  !  "  shouted  O'Con- 
nor, running  to  head  pony  off;  and  by  a  short 
cut  getting  in  front  of  her,  he  furiously  bran- 
dished the  curr3'-comb.  But  pony  had  a  will 
for  once,  and  a  temper,  too. 

Laying  flat  her  ears,  and  drawing  back  her 
lips,  disclosing  double  rows  of  formidable  teeth, 
she  made  directly  for  the  Celt,  as  if  to  eat  him. 

With  a  wild  whoop  Erin  fled,  pony  follow* 
ing,  her  ghstening  ivories  within  an  inch  of  his 


28  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

pate.  The  spectators  in  windows  and  court, 
overcome  at  the  ludicrousness  of  the  rare  specta- 
cle, laughed  and  applauded,  forgetful,  for  the 
moment,  of  the  loss  of  Alice,  till  Erm  took  refuge 
in  a  friendly  doorway.  Then  pony  galloped 
out  upon  the  prairie,  and  joined  the  cavalcade. 

That  wise  and  experienced  officer,  General 
McElroy,  had  laid  out  the  work  of  hunting  up 
Alice  with  far-sighted  and  systematic  skill.  The 
men  were  divided  into  squads,  each  with  its  dis- 
tinctive mission,  and  all  to  report  often  to  him. 
Signals  were  appointed  which  would  enable  the 
most  widely  separated  corps  to  communicate 
with  each  other,  and  with  the  commander-in- 
chief. 

How  like  clockwork  is  military  discipline  !  In 
this  instance,  however,  there  was  one  connected 
with  the  expedition  irreducible  to  rules.  That 
was  pony,  the  volunteer.  Defying  orders,  sig- 
nals, and  the  ordained  plan,  the  bantam  steed 
would  proceed  in  one  direction,  and  that  only. 
He  even  aspired  to  lead  —  the  usurper.  If  the 
cavalry  followed,  how  pleased  he  seemed !  If 
they  swerved  from  the  route  he  preferred,  he 
would  curve  and  canter  up  to  them,  then  back 
to  his  track,  neighing  for  them  to  come  also. 

Pony's  mute  though  eloquent  appeals  and 
manoeuvres  attracted  the  attention  of  Captain 
Manly.     He  was  a  close  observer,  was  versed 


A   RIDERLESS   PONY.  29 

in  natural  history,  and  passionately  fond  of  good 
horses.  He  was  aware  that  not  alone  that  useful 
animal,  but  the  dog,  the  elephant,  and  others  of 
the  dumb  kingdom,  frequently  exhibit  a  marvel- 
lous sagacity.  Thrusting  his  spurs  into  his  own 
beast,  he  was  quickly  at  the  side  of  his  superior. 

"  General,"  said  he,  making  the  military  salute, 
**  the  horse  your  daughter  rode  this  morning  hav- 
ing, it  appears,  broken  loose  from  confinement, 
is  hovering  near  my  men.  The  little  animal  acts, 
I  think,  as  if  it  would  lead  us  to  some  particular 
locality.  It  may  be  a  whim  of  mine,  but  I  fancy 
it  might  not  prove  amiss  to  humor  the  creature, 
and  see  what  comes  of  it." 

"  Singular,  very,"  ejaculated  the  gray-bearded 
veteran,  levelling  his  glass  at  pony.  "  Every 
movement  of  the  animal  is  instinct  with  intelli- 
gence. Do  as  you  please,  captain,  and  if  any- 
thing turns  up,  signalize  promptly." 

"  I  have  great  faith  in  horses,"  remarked  the 
captain,  on  rejoining  his  command,  to  a  brother 
officer.  "  They  differ  in  intelligence  just  as  men 
do.  Some  are  stupid,  others  acute.  Some  love 
their  owners,  others  care  only  for  the  stall  — 
mere  eye  and  trencher  servants. 

*'  Observe  what  a  sensitive  organization  has 
that  pony.  His  nostrils  and  ears,  —  the  latter 
ever  in  motion,  alert  for  the  faintest  whisper, — 
trim   limbs,   clear,   bright   eye,   proud,  self-con- 


^O  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

scious  carriage,  —  there's  a  world  of  affection  and 
good  sense  in  that  beast.  I  owe  my  life  to  a 
horse  like  that — except  that  mine  was  large  and 
powerful. 

"  It  was  on  the  plains.  A  messenger  arrived 
at  our  station,  stating  that  a  stage  had  been  at- 
tacked by  Indians,  and  imploring  relief.  Most 
of  my  command  had  been  detailed  as  escort  to  an 
immigrant  train  ;  but  taking  ten  men  with  me,  we 
hurried  to  the  scene  of  action. 

"  The  crack  of  rifles  and  yell  of  savages  urged 
us  forward,  and,  rounding  a  bluff',  we  were  at 
once  on  the  battle-field.  The  stage  had  been 
captured,  and  was  filled  with  Indians,  while  a 
redskin  sat  on  each  of  the  four  horses.  The  fel- 
lows, with  gory  scalps  dangling,  were  enjoying 
a  ride.  Several  bodies  of  dead  and  wounded 
whites  lay  around,  while  in  the  distance  the  fight 
was  still  raging,  showing  that  some  of  the  pas- 
sengers had  survived  the  onslaught. 

"  I  comprehended  at  a  glance  how  matters 
stood.  The  plains,  you  know,  are  all  dotted  with 
round  hollows,  say  a  dozen  feet  across,  called 
*  wallows.'  To  these  the  huge  bufl^alo  resorts  to 
roll,  covering  himself  with  a  coating  of  moist 
earth,  to  rid  himself  of  the  lively  little  eaters 
infesting  his  shaggy  hide. 

"  In  one  of  these  buffalo  wallows  four  men  had 
found  refuge,  their  heads  being  just  visible ;  and 


THE    BUFFALO    WALLOW.  3 1 

riding  dexterously  and  rapidly  in  a  circle  about 
them,  shooting  arrows  or  fire-arms,  were  not  less 
than  a  hundred  and  fifty  Indians.  The  cunning 
copperfaces  would  keep  their  bodies  on  the  side 
of  their  ponies  away  from  the  white  men,  making 
a  galloping  breastwork  of  each  horse. 

"  The  danger  w^as,  that  the  whites  would  ex- 
haust their  ammunition ;  then  the  rascally  sav- 
ages would  show  no  favor. 

"  The  Indians  were  between  us  and  the  men  in 
the  wallow,  and  the  intervening  bluff  had  con- 
cealed our  approach.  Giving  word  to  charge  on 
the  savages,  in  order  to  break  through  to  the  res- 
cue of  the  whites,  whose  fire  was  slackening,  we 
rushed,  with  a  cheer,  to  the  onset.  The  surprise 
was  complete,  and  at  first  successful.  But  per- 
ceiving the  handful  I  had  with  me,  the  scattering 
savages  rallied,  and  assaulted  us  with  great 
ferocity. 

"An  arrow-head  struck  my  arm.  The  leins 
dropped.  M}' horse  reared ;  I  lost  my  balance, 
and  was  hurled  violently  to  the  ground.  Before 
recovering  from  the  shock,  a  savage  was  upon 
me  to  take  my  scalp. 

"Utterly  at  his  mercy,' he  would  soon  have 
finished  the  job,  when,  with  a  defiant  snort, 
my  faithful  beast  swept  up,  and  seizing  my 
assailant  in  her  capacious  mouth,  dragged  him 
over,  and  trampled  him  with  her  fore  feet.     How 


32  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

she  smote  and  bruised  him  !  It  was  a  terrific 
sight. 

"  I  had  by  this  time  regained  my  feet,  and  re- 
mounting, being  better  armed,  we  succeeded  in 
putting  the  Indians  to  flight." 

"  The  instinct  of  the  brute  is  a  great  puzzle  to 
me,"  remarked  his  comrade,  "  it  is  so  marvel- 
lously quick,  subtle,  and  unerring.  It  seems,  in 
certain  respects,  to  surpass  reason.  There,  for 
example,  is  the  honey-bee.  The  honey-hunter 
repairs  to  the  fields  provided  with  a  little  box 
containing  honey.  Catching  some  bees,  he  shuts 
them  within,  and  through  the  glass  top  watches 
till  he  sftes  that  they  have  loaded  themselves  with 
the  sweet  liquid.  The  insect  is  then  liberated. 
It  rises  in  the  air,  flies  round  in  several  widening 
circles,  till,  having  ascertained  the  direction  of 
its  home,  it  makes  directly  for  it,  the  hunter  fol- 
lowing, sure  that  if  he  retains  the  bee  in  sight, 
he  shall  find  the  honey-tree. 

"Now,  how  does  the  insect  —  no  matter  how 
far  or  where  the  hunter  bore  it  while  imprisoned  in 
the  box  —  find  out  the  right  way  home,  and  not 
only  so,  but  reach  it  by  a  perfectly  straight, 
or,  as  it  is  termed,  '  a  "bee  line  '?  " 

"The  horse  will  do  the  same  thing,"  said  the 
captain.  "  I  had  ridden  one  day  forty  miles 
across  trackless  prairies  —  an  entirely  new  route 
to  me.     On  returning,  the  sky  became  overcast, 


THE    BUFFALO   WALLOW.  33 

and  not  having  a  compass,  I  got  lost.  Giving 
the  reins  to  my  horse,  the  sagacious  animal  chose 
an  opposite  course  from  that  I  had  been  pursuing, 
carrying  me  across  marshes  and  streams,  and 
through  almost  impenetrable  thickets,  by,  I  subse- 
quently learned,  an  almost  mathematically  direct 
line  to  my  destination.  And  yet  the  country  was 
as  new  to  him  as  to  me. 

"  But  see,  there  are  woods  !  Pony  is  entering 
them.  Ah,  yonder's  a  river;  and  what  is  this 
on  the  bank?"  he  earnestly  exclaimed.  For 
there  lay  Miss  Alice's  hat,  containing  a  few 
withered  flowers,  and  near  by  two  partially  ar- 
ranged bouquets  ! 
3 


34  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    FLIGHT    FROM    THE    WIGWAM. INDIAN 

WATCH-DOGS. 

When  Alice  McElroy  awoke  to  conscious- 
ness, and  to  find  herself  in  the  canoe  with  the 
savage,  two  opposite  states  of  mind  and  feeling 
were  induced.  Overpowering  terror  and  grief 
swallowed  her  up  in  a  tempest  of  horror,  and  yet 
her  faculties  were  preternaturally  busy  in  noting 
the  course  she  was  being  transported,  so  as  to  be 
able,  if  chance  occurred,  to  retrace  her  way. 

Little  did  her  pitiless  captor  imagine  that  the 
young  girl  who  lay  by  turns  moaning  and  plead- 
ing in  her  sorrow,  or  speechless  from  fright, 
observed  objects  they  passed  with  a  vividness 
that  photographed  their  image  indelibly  on  her 
memory. 

When,  therefore,  she  took  flight  from  the  wig- 
wam, her  first  endeavor  was  to  discover  the  real 
direction  homeward. 

The  Indian  had  said  that  they  had  come  a 
*'big  way"  from  the  fort.  But,  judging  from 
the  slow  progress  they  had  made,  on  the  whole, 


THE    FLIGHT    FROM    THE    WIGWAM.        '    35 

she  was  convinced  that  he  had  purposely  exag- 
gerated the  distance.  Perhaps  it  was  only  a  lew 
miles  to  the  river.  Perchance  her  father  might 
be  there  searching  for  her. 

But  what  dangers  and  difficulties  might  be 
between  her  and  rescue  she  dared  not  anticipate. 
A  giant  elm,  lightning-blasted,  she  had  seen  in 
coming,  and  there,  a  mile  or  so  away,  she  could 
discern  its  ghostly  outline,  stretching  its  bare 
branches  heavenward.  This  welcome  landmark 
decided  her  course,  and  the  assurance  she  felt 
that  the  decision  was  correct  gave  her  courage. 

What  did  she  not  suffer  in  that  dreadful  jour- 
ney !  struggling  through  thorny  bushes  and 
interlacing  shrubs,  tearing  hands,  face,  and  neck 
till  blood  trickled  from  the  smarting  womids,  be- 
wildered in  bushy  labyrinths  where  the  confined 
air  was  so  hot  and  suffocating  as  to  cause  her  to 
pant  and  gasp  for  breath,  sinking  knee-deep  in 
mud  and  ooze  of  slimy  marshes,  startled  by 
sounds  of  she  knew  not  what  wild  creatures. 
But  the  fearful  apprehension  that  her  captor,  dis- 
covering her  absence  from  the  wigwam,  would 
pursue  and  overtake  her,  stimulated  her  lagging 
energies. 

About  noon  she  came  to  the  margin  of  a  small 
lake.  In  the  tops  of  the  tall,  overhanging  trees 
were  large  birds,  of  black  plumage  and  odd 
shape,  with  great,  coarse,  red  throats.    The  water 


36  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

beneath  was  black,  and  thickly  covered  with 
broad,  floating  leaves.  On  the  shores  grew  poi- 
sonous plants  with  brilliant  blossoms  and  sicken- 
ing scents.  Here,  weary  and  trembling,  she  sat 
down,  and  drawing  from  her  dress-pocket  the 
dried  venison,  ate  a  little.  Then  descending  to 
the  border  of  the  pond,  and  scooping  up  some 
water  in  her  hands,  she  eagerly  drank. 

Now,  recollecting/ that  she  did  not  see  this  lake 
while  carried  off  by  the  Indian,  the  conviction 
that  she  had  wandered  from  the  path  startled  her. 
Frantic  at  the  thought,  on  she  went,  looking 
sharply  to  descry  some  waymark  that  would  set 
her  right  again.  Walking  and  resting  in  turn, 
afternoon  wore  off,  and  evening  twilight  fell. 

The  sun  went  down,  and  darkness  brooded  on 
the  forest.  Urging  her  weary  limbs  along  in  the 
awful  gloom,  slipping,  stumbling,  falling  over 
moss-grown  tree-trunks,  scratched  and  clasped 
by  remorseless  branches,  all  at  once  she  heard 
the  howling  of  wolves,  as  if  hundreds  of  them 
were  assembled  in  grim  concert.  Then,  in  the 
direction  of  the  howling,  she  saw  a  lurid  light  and 
dusky  figures  moving  about. 

She  was  too  well  acquainted  with  frontier  char- 
acteristics not  to  recognize  in  the  scenes  before 
her  an  Indian  encampment ;  for  she  had  heard 
her  father  tell  that  the  coyotes,  or  prairie- wolves, 
will  surround  a  camp  at  nightfall,  and  at  nine  or 


INDIAN    WATCH-DOGS.  37 

ten  o'clock  commence  their  serenade  chorus,  and 
that  the  Indians  will  not  kill  the  discordant 
voiced  animal,  regarding  him  as  a  watch-dog. 
For,  let  any  one  approach  the  camp,  and  the 
wolf-music  instantly  ceases,  and  the  Indians 
know  that  somebody  is  about.  Then  they  keep 
away  from  their  fires,  and  watch  for  the  intruder. 

When  the  knowledge  of  her  proximity  to  an 
Indian  encampment  burst  upon  her,  Alice  sank 
to  the  ground,  overcome  with  conflicting  emotions. 
If  it  was  the  same  encampment  that  she  passed 
with  the  Indian,  then  she  had  returned  uncon- 
sciously on  her  own  steps,  and  must  still  be  near 
her  captor's  hut,  and  when  morning  dawned  he 
would  certainly  retake  her.  The  conclusion  was 
appalling.  How  ought  she  to  act  under  the  cir- 
cumstances? How  would  it  do  to  enter  the 
encampment  and  claim  protection?  Might  not 
some  in  the  barbarous  community,  for  the  hope 
of  generous  reward,  extend  it,  and  restore  her  to 
her  father? 

A  faint  hope  sprang  up  in  her  heart.  Softly 
gaining  the  summit  of  the  mound  she  was  on, 
she  gazed  earnestly  at  the  encampment.  Those 
swarthy  forms,  how  hideous  and  terrifying ! 
Turning,  she  fled  into  the  covert  of  the  woods 
like  a  bird  chased  by  the  cruel  hunter,  and  toiled 
with  the  energy  of  a  mortal  fear  to  put  as  much 
space  as  was  in  her  power  between  herself  and 
those  "  habitations  of  cruelty.** 


38  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Sitting  down,  at  last,  her  strength  all  spent, 
she  leaned  for  rest  against  a  craggy  oak.  "  I  must 
not  sit  here  but  a  moment,"  she  said  to  herself. 
But  a  resistless  drowsiness  benumbing  her  sensi- 
bilities, with  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  shake  oft' 
the  spell,  she  dropped  into  a  deep  sleep. 

A  sharp  report  aroused  her.  Starting  to  her 
feet,  she  saw,  with  wonder,  that  the  sun  was  up  : 
she  had  slept  till  morning.  And  a  second  won- 
der —  a  few  rods  in  advance  was  the  river. 
With  a  cry  of  joy  at  the  familiar  sight,  —  to  see 
which  she  had  dared  and  endured  so  much, — 
she  sprang  forward,  purposing  to  descend  the 
bank,  and  if  the  stream  at  that  point  was  not  too 
deep,  wade  over. 

A  warning  buzz  in  her  pathway  brought  her 
to  a  stand-still,  for  a  few  paces  ahead,  coiled 
ready  to  strike,  was  a  large  rattlesnake.  She 
retreated  backwards,  the  reptile  darting  out  his 
forked,  fiery  tongue  at  her  till  assured  of  his  own 
safety,  then  slowly  uncoiled  itself  and  glided 
away. 

Making  a  circuit  she  began  once  more  to  go 
down  the  bank.  A  mat  of  dried  rank  sedges 
and  osiers  was  before  her.  Stepping  upon  it,  a 
score  of  snakes  beneath  the  treacherous  cover- 
ing rattled  and  hissed,  and  with  a  shiver  and  a 
scream  she  fled  back  again. 

A  gun  was   now  discharged  in  the   distance 


INDIAN   WATCH-DOGS.  39 

across  the  river.  Then  she  dimly  discerned  a 
soldier's  uniform.  Her  heart  gave  a  bound — . 
it  was  her  father's  men  looking  for  her.  She 
was  about  to  call  to  them,  when  a  great  flat  hand 
was  placed  sternly  and  silently  over  her  mouth. 

It  was  the  Indian.  Lightly  throwing  her  over 
his  shoulder,  he  bore  her  rapidly  away.  In  vain 
she  Struggled  and  tried  to  cry  out.  The  iron 
grip  relaxed  not,  and  in  sight  of  final  escape 
she  was  a  captive  once  more. 

Not  long  had  the  savage,  with  his  victim,  gone, 
when  the  fort  soldiers  appeared  under  the  trees 
opposite. 

"I  am  sure,  captain,  that  it  was  a  girl's  voice. 
It  was  as  genuine  a  scream  as  I  ever  heard," 
said  one  of  the  men. 

"I  heard  it," added  another,  "and  something  like 
a  dress  went  fluttering  over  the  bank  yonder !  " 

Instantly  the  eager  soldiery  forded  the  stream, 
and  penetrated  every  part  of  the  adjacent  wood. 
But  no  trace  of  human  existence  was  found,  save 
a  bit  of  dried  venison  under  the  tree  where  Alice 
had  reposed. 

Through  the  concealing  bushes,  the  adventur- 
ous red  man  carried  the  girl,  with  the  ease  and 
swiftness  of  a  panther,  to  a  point  low  down  on 
the  stream.  Here  he  pushed  from  its  hiding- 
place  a  canoe,  and  tying  his  captive's  mouth  with 
tight  folds  of  dirty  cloth,  he  laid  her  in  the  boat, 
and  paddled  noiselessly  along. 


4©  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Long  and  diligent  was  the  search  for  the  lost 
maiden.  Prairie,  forest,  and  river  were  scoured, 
and  large  rewards  offered  for  her  recovery, 
but  without  avail.  Weary  weeks,  melanchob 
months,  rolled  round,  bringing  no  news  of  fairj 
Alice. 


THE    TRAGEDY   ON    THE    RIVER.  4 1 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   TRAGEDY    ON    THE    RIVER. 

"  Husband,  ar'n't  you  coming  to  get  some  rest? 
We've  had  a  long  journey,  and  we've  a  great 
ways  to  go  yet.  And  you  know  we  land  before 
morning.  You  will  be  all  tired  out ;  and  I  can't 
sleep,  I  worry  so  about  you." 

It  was  a  loving  womanly  voice  that  uttered 
this,  and  a  pale,  care-worn  face  it  was  that  peered 
througli  the  little  aperture  over  the  state-room 
door,  the  blue  eyes  glancing  anxiously  about  for 
a  glimpse  of  the  person  addressed. 

"  Coming  soon  ! "  was  the  hearty  response, 
though  the  tones  sounded  strangely,  borne  on 
the  night  air  along  the  dimly-lighted  steamer. 
"  Wait  till  this  steamboat  passes  ;  "  and  Mr.  Wil- 
lard  kept  his  solitary  lookout,  spell-bound  by 
the  magic  of  night,  on  the  Mississippi.  How 
varied  and  bewitching  the  scene  !  Ploughing  the 
liquid  element  was  the  monster  leviathan,  rush- 
ing, thundering  by,  spouting  fire,  while  star-like 
from  the  shore  glimmered  the  lamps  of  vil- 
lage, and  city,  and  farm-house.     Is    it   strange 


42  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

that  Mr.  Willard  lingered  to  gaze  as  if  fasci- 
nated? 

He  was  an  affectionate,  kind-hearted  man,  but 
impulsive,  excitable,  and,  when  aroused,  head- 
strong. He  had  inherited  a  small  property  from 
his  father,  which,  with  his  daily  earnings,  pro- 
vided a  snug  home  for  himself,  wife,  and  thiee 
children,  in  a  growing  town  in  Maine. 

His  "lot"  joined  the  old  homestead  where  his 
wife  was  born,  and  well  contented  was  she  to 
settle  for  life,  as  she  supposed,  by  the  side  of  her 
parents,  and  among  the  scenes  of  her  childhood 
and  youth.  With  reasonable  frugality,  her  hus- 
band was  able  to  maintain  the  family  respectably, 
and  a  mile  away  was  the  school-house  and  the 
village  church,  so  that  the  intellectual  and  reli- 
gious training  of  the  children  need  not  be  neg- 
lected. 

But  Mr.  Willard  contracted  the  "  western  fe- 
ver," and  announced  to  his  wife  his  determination 
to  sell  their  property,  and  start  for  the  cheap, 
rich  lands  of  Minnesota.  The  announcement 
was  to  her  as  the  tolling  of  a  funeral  knell. 
And  with  gentle  reasoning  she  sought  to  change 
his  purpose. 

"We  are  happy  here,"  she  tearfully  said,  "and 
have  met  with  no  reverses.  It  is  not  necessary 
for  us  to  go  west,  as  is  the  case  with  many.  If 
we  were  suffering  for  the   comforts   of  life,  or 


THE    TRAGEDY    ON   THE    RIVER.  43 

likely  thus  to  suffer,  I  would  not  shrink  from  any 
change  that  promised  an  improvement  in  our  cir- 
cumstances." 

But  the  more  he  read,  and  thought,  and  ar- 
gued, the  stronger  his  wish  to  emigrate;  and, 
with  a  foreboding  heart,  the  wife  prepared  for 
the  removal. 

The  pleasant  cottage,  with  its  productive  vege- 
table garden  and  smiling  flower-beds,  and  the 
household  effects,  were  sold,  and  the  morning 
for  the  departure  of  the  Willards  witnessed  a  sad 
sight. 

The  family  had  many  friends,  who  called  to 
utter  a  last  word  to  those  who  that  day  were  to 
leave  them,  never,  perhaps,  to  return.  Mr.  Wil- 
lard  and  wife  were  both  members  of  the  church, 
and  the  pastor  was  there  also  to  add  his  blessing. 

But  when  the  aged  father  and  mother  came  to 
say  "  good  by  "  to  the  favorite  daughter  and  the 
petted  grandchildren,  the  old  man  bracing  him- 
self trembUngly  on  his  cane,  while  the  tears 
flowed  down  his  furrowed  cheeks,  Walter  Wil- 
lard's  conscience  smote  him  for  causing  so  much 
sorrow.  It  w^as,  however,  too  late  to  retreat,  and 
the  train  soon  bore  them  from  view. 

The  husband's  ardent  temperament  quickly 
threw  off  depression.  They  were  now  really  on 
the  way  to  the  Great  West  —  the  Eldorado  of  his 
day  and  night  dreaming.     Each  hour  the  swift- 


44 


THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


winged  cars  were  bringing  him  nearer  the  goal 
of  his  hopes.  The  thought  of  this  speedily  sv/al- 
lowed  up  parting  regrets.  How  many  acquaint- 
ances he  made  on  the  road  !  What  delightful 
chats  with  those  going,  like  himself,  towards  the 
setting  sun  !  How  companionable  and  confiding 
he  became  with  his  new  associates  !  —  informing 
them  of  his  history,  his  plans,  his  expectations, 
his  means,  his  destination. 

"  Husband,  is  it  safe  to  let  those  men  know 
how  much  money  you  carry  with  you  ?  "  the  more 
prudent  wife  ventured  to  inquire.  But  the  cau- 
tion was  soon  forgotten. 

And  now  he  was  floating  on  the  great  river  he 
had  so  longed  to  see ;  and  as  the  late  hours  wore 
on,  with  "his  soul  in  his  eyes,"  he  continued 
gazing  at  the  ever-changing  scenery. 

It  was  a  densely  inhabited  hive* — that  boat. 
But  Sleep  had  long  since  with  velvet  fingers 
closed  the  eyes  of  the  jaded  travellers ;  not  a 
passenger  was  up  save  the  enthusiastic  Mr.  Wil- 
lard. 

Not  one?  Who  is  that,  past  midnight,  creep- 
ing stealthily  by  the  berths  of  the  hard-breathing 
sleepers?  Why  moves  he  so  noiselessly?  Some- 
times he  is  motionless ;  then  he  skulks  warily 
along :  his  manner,  movements,  attitudes,  show 
him  to  be  one  whose  deeds  are  more  of  the  night 
than  of  the  day. 


THE   TRAGEDY   ON   THE    RIVER.  45 

And  see,  another  figure.  The  two  meet ;  they 
whisper  together  with  rapid  and  significant  ges- 
tures ;  they  part,  and  then  reappear,  approaching 
on  either  hand  the  lone  emigrant  looking  unsus- 
pectingly ofi*  over  the  water. 

Suddenly  they  clutch  him  by  the  throat ;  his 
arms  are  pinioned  and  mouth  gagged ;  greedy 
fingers  take  his  watch  and  money  ;  there  is  a 
struggle,  —  a  heavy  body  goes  overboard,  —  a 
splash,  a  gurgle  —  and  all  is  still.  The  prowlers 
separate,  glide  away,  disappear. 

Mrs.  Willard  awoke  as  if  struck  by  a  blow. 

"Walter!  Walter!  where  are  you?"  she 
called.  "  Children,  which  of  you  will  go  and 
find  father?  Perhaps  he  has  dropped  asleep  in 
another  part  of  the  boat." 

"I'll  go  for  him,"  answered  thirteen-year-old 
Georgie  ;  and,  rubbing  open  his  eyes,  he  threaded 
the  forsaken  passages,  repeating,  — 

"Father!  father!" 

The  lad  approached  the  scene  of  the  robbery 
just  as  the  unhappy  victim  was  precipitated  into 
the  stream.  In  the  darkness  he  saw  a  confused 
conflict,  and  the  thrusting  over  the  boat  side  of  a 
dark  body,  and  heard  the  dull  plunge ;  but,  has- 
tening to  the  spot,  all  was  silence  and  vacancy. 

Had  he  been  dreaming?  Was  it  illusion?  All 
at  once  his  heart  stood  still,  for  that  form  cast 
into  the  current,  indistinctly  outlined  in  the  star- 
light, looked  like  his  father  I 


46  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Overcome  of  terror,  he  hurried  back  to  the 
state-room  with  horror-blanched  cheeks,  unable 
to  tell  what  he  had  seen.  Then  the  mother, 
hoping  and  fearing,  clasping  the  son's  hand,  went 
forth  to  the  search. 

One  o'clock.  Two  o'clock.  The  porter  knocks 
at  the  Willards'  state-room.  The  steamboat  bell 
gives  notice  of  a  "  Landing." 

"  Hurry  !  "  says  the  porter  to  the  lingering  wife  ; 
**  the  boat  stops  only  a  minute  !  " 

"But  Where's  my  husband?"  she  asks,  weep- 
ing, and  calls  distractedly,  "Husband  !  husband  !" 

"Mother,"  the  boy  whispers,  with  white  lips, 
"  I  saw  two  men  throw  father  into  the  river  !  " 

The  boat  grazes  the  rude  pier.  The  plank  is 
out  for  the  passengers.  The  baggage  is  thrown 
ashore. 

"  Hurry  !  ma'am,  hurry  !"  reiterates  the  porter, 
seizing  the  arm  of  the  bewildered  woman,  and 
pushing  her  over  the  narrow  crossing,  which  is 
instantly  withdrawn,  and  the  steamer  is  off. 

But  what  of  the  mother  and  children  left  in  the 
damp  twilight  on  that  strange  shore?  What  of 
the  husband  and  father?  —  for  he  comes  not. 
What  of  the  money  he  had  with  him?  the  avails 
of  the  neat  New  England  home,  with  which  he 
was  to  build  up  another  home  in  the  wilderness. 

There  stands  the  stricken  group  by  their  heaped- 
Vp  boxes  and  trunks,  in  fright  and  agony.     How 


THE    TRAGEDY   ON    THE    RIVER.  47 

different  it  might  have  been  had  the  ill-fated  man 
considered  his  wife's  happiness  before  adventur- 
ing west !  or  if,  on  the  road,  he  had  preserved 
the  reticence  of  the  discreet  traveller ! 

And,  O,  what  black  deeds  the  darkness  hide* 
from  every  eye  but  One  I 


48  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE    LITTLE   HUNCHBACK.  AUNT   ESTHER,  THE 

IMMIGRANT. 

"Madam,  can  I  assist  you  in  any  way?  You 
seem  to  be  a  stranger,  and  in  trouble." 

Mrs.  Willard  was  naturally  retiring,  and  withal 
distrustful  of  strangers.  She  glanced  scrutiniz- 
ingly  at  the  speaker.  His  frank,  open,  manly 
face,  instantly  disarmed  suspicion. 

"  Fearing,  from  your  conversation  on  the  boat 
with  the  porter,"  he  continued,  "  that  a  serious 
calamity  had  befallen  you,  I  succeeded  in  getting 
off  at  this  landing  to  aid  you,  if  you  need  assist- 
ance." 

"  O,  sir,"  she  wailed,  "  I  know  not  what  dread- 
ful thing  has  happened.  My  husband  disap- 
peared in  the  night ;  and  my  little  boy,  here,  says 
he  saw  two  men  throw  him  overboard.  Can  it 
be  that  my  poor  Walter  is  murdered,  sir?  It 
seems  as  if  my  heart  would  burst,  I  am  so  terri- 
fied and  wretched  !  "  And  the  ghastly  face,  and 
clasped  hands,  and  piteous  tones,  might  melt 
adamant.  "  Georgie,  darling,  tell  the  gentleman 
about  it." 


THE   SYMPATHIZING    STRANGER.  49 

**  It  is  not  necessary,  madam  ;  it  would  only 
distress  you,"  answered  the  young  man.  "  I  over- 
heard the  story.  It  may  not  be  so  bad  as  he 
thinks.  Perhaps  an  accident  happened  to  your 
husband,  and  he  will  yet  make  his  appearance. 
It  is  always  well  to  look  on  the  bright  side, 
madam." 

"But  what  shall  I  do?"  she  inquired.  "Mr. 
Willard  was  taking  us  to  Minnesota.  He  had 
the  money  with  him.  What  can  be  done  to  as- 
certain what  has  become  of  him,  and  if  all  is  in- 
deed well,"  —  and  she  spoke  more  cheerily,  —  "  to 
let  him  know  where  we  are.  He'll  be  worried 
about  us.  And,"  she  added,  hesitatingly,  "  if  he 
has  been  injured,  I  shall  want  to  take  care  of 
him.  Do  —  you  —  really  —  think  —  sir,"  and 
the  words  now  faltered  and  dragged  as  if  the 
horror-palsied  tongue  refused  its  office,  "that  — 
he —  was  —  robbed  —  and  thrown  into  the  riv- 
er?" 

Her  pleading  eyes  were  fixed  on  his,  as  if  she 
would  read  his  inmost  thoughts. 

"Ah,  yes,  you  think  so!"  she  cried,  wringing 
her  hands. 

Her  listener  turned  away  to  hide  his  emotion. 

"  You  believe  my  Walter  was  murdered.  My 
dc^v  husband  !  Th^  father  of  these  boys  !  Cast 
into  the  river !  Children,  we  are  now  alone ! 
Alone  in  the  far  west !      Without  friends  I  with- 

4 


50  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

out  home  I  without  money !  And  he  mur- 
dered ! " 

The  bitter  agony  concentrated  in  accent,  look, 
and  attitude  cannot  be  portrayed. 

"Woman,"  abruptly  interposed  the  young 
man,  "for  your  own  sake,  for  your  husband's 
sake,  should  he  still  survive,  for  your  children's 
sake,  be  calm.  This  is  no  time  to  abandon  your- 
self to  grief  and  despair.  God  is  aHve.  He  will 
not  forsake  you.  Rouse  yourself  for  action. 
These  boys  look  up  to  and  depend  in  this  hour 
wholly  on  you.  For  their  sake,  I  repeat,  be 
calm." 

This  timely  exhortation,  uttered  with  magnetic 
force,  was  not  without  effect. 

"  You  are  right,"  she  meditatively  replied,  "  I 
must  not  selfishly  yield  to  sorrow.  Counsel  me. 
What  course  ought  I  to  pursue  in  these  fearful 
circumstances  ?  " 

A  few  rods  up  the  shore  stood  a  tavern.  A 
servant  lingered  near.  Calling  him,  the  young 
man  said,  — 

"Take  this  lady's  baggage  to  the  house." 

And  when  he  had  seen  it  all  safely  conveyed 
there,  he  led  the  stricken  group  after. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  as  they  seated  themselves  in 
the  "  Ladies'  Room,"  "  you  need,  madam,  to  sum- 
mon all  your  resolution  to  consider  your  position 
and  duty  as  composedly  as  possible.     Because 


THE    SYMPATHIZING    STRANGER.  5 1 

of  your  family  you  must  even  be  heroic.  A  true 
mother  will  hold  up  her  offspring  when  affliction 
comes,  teaching  them  by  her  own  sublime  ex- 
ample how  to  meet  the  storm." 

"True,  sir,  true,"  remarked  the  lady,  quietly 
weeping. 

"  It  would  be  wrong  to  disguise  the  painful  fact 
that  circumstances  appear  to  indicate  that  your 
husband  has  been  foully  dealt  with,  that  your  boy's 
conclusions  concerning  his  father  may  be  correct. 
Scoundrels  of  the  deepest  dye  take  passage  in 
the  immigrant  trains  and  on  the  Mississippi 
steamers  for  the  purpose  of  finding  out  who  has 
money  or  jewelry,  and,  when  opportunity  favors, 
of  plundering  them.  Your  husband  may  have 
made  dangerous  acquaintances  on  his  journey, 
and  paid  the  sad  penalty.  But,  even  if  he  was 
thrown  into  the  river,  he  may  have  been  picked 
up  by  some  boat,  or  gained  the  shore.  It  was 
farther  down  stream  that  the  affair  happened,  — 
if  it  did  occur,  —  and  we  must  make  inquiries  at 
various  places,  and  see  if  any  intelligence  can  be 
gained  concerning  him.  I  will  with  pleasure  at- 
tend to  this.  Remain  here  till  I  report  results. 
There's  a  down  steamer's  bell,  now  ;  keep  up 
good  courage,  madam,  till  I  return." 

And  running  to  the  rude  pier,  he  sprang  into 
the  boat. 

And  now  that  the  young  man  has  gone,  let  us 


52  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

notice  more  in  detail  the  little  company  he  has 
felt  so  much  interest  to  serve. 

Besides  Mrs.  Willard,  at  a  discreet  remove  from 
her,  is  her  maiden  sister,  "aunt  Esther."  ,She  is 
of  light  complexion  and  hair, — the  latter  very 
abundant,  —  natural;  is  somev^^iat  stoutish  ;  has 
a  large,  firmly-carried  head,  an  ample  forehead, 
and  a  fine  face.  Each  article  of  her  apparel, 
from  neck-ribbon  to  gaiter-boot,  fits  nicely,  show- 
ing her  to  be  orderly  and  exact.  She  rarely 
speaks,  but  when  she  does  it  is  to  the  point.  She 
makes  no  demonstrations  towards  any  one  —  not 
even  towards  a  baby.  If  obliged  to  notice  such 
a  morsel  of  humanity,  it  is  in  a  tenderly  stately 
style,  without  lullaby  or  petting. 

When  Mr.  Willard  broached  the  subject  of 
immigrating,  she  lifted  her  neatly-arched  eye- 
brows in  lofty  surprise  ;  and  when  at  last  she  ex- 
pressed her  opinion,  it  was  decidedly  against  the 
scheme. 

"  If  Mr.  Willard  wishes  to  banish  himself  to 
the  world's  end,  he  may  do  so.  /  shall  not  stir 
an  inch  on  such  a  wild-goose  chase,  and  his  wife 
is  foolish  if  she  does." 

But  when  theWillards  started,  without  previous- 
ly hinting  her  intention  of  doing  so,  she  descended 
from  her  room  clad  in  a  tidy  travelling  suit,  rode 
to  the  depot,  had  her  trunk  checked,  and  seated 
herself  in  the  cars.     She  did  not  even  bid  adieu 


AUNT    ESTHER. 


53 


to  her  acquaintances ;  perhaps  her  lips  were  too 
firmly  closed  to  open  for  so  slight  a  civility.  Her 
face  was,  however,  unusually  pale. 

"  O,  Esther,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Willard,  as  the 
reticent  maiden  sank  into  the  next  seat,  "  are  you 
to  accompany  us  ?     How  glad  I  am  !  " 

"  1  did  not  say  so,"  was  the  unbending  rejoin- 
der. The  maiden  lady's  ear-drops  grew  pendu- 
lous from  some  smothered  emotion.  "  I  shall  go  a 
little  way,  to  see  that  you  and  the  children  are 
properly  cared  for.     Men  are  so  inefficient !  " 

The  boys,  however,  noticed  that  their  single 
relative  had  coupon  tickets  in  her  reticule  — 
though  each  was  secretl}^  torn  off  in  succession 
for  the  conductor.  "  Little  pitchers  "  have  sharp 
eyes  and  wits  as  well  as  "big  ears,"  and  the 
lads  drew  a  pleasing  inference  from  what  they 
saw.  For,  odd  and  uncommunicative  as  was 
aunt  Esther,  they  loved  and  respected  her.  She 
had  done  them  too  many  cross-good  turns  for  it 
to  be  otherwise,  and  they  very  well  knew  that 
her  judgment  was  golden. 

"  I  bet  aunt  Esther  is  going  all  the  way  with 
us,"  gleefully  said  Georgie  to  his  mother.  "  I 
peeped  over  her  shoulder  into  her  carpet-bag, 
and  she  had  a  string  of  tickets  a  mile  long." 

"Hush,  child,"  answered  the  mother;  "she 
will  overhear  you.  But  I  must  think  you  exag- 
gerate a  trifle." 


54  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"  And  then  her  trunk  is  big  as  all  out  doors." 

"  Not  quite,"  quietly  said  the  mother. 

But  the  self-reliant,  cool-headed,  authoritative 
maiden  lady,  in  the  emergencies  of  the  journey, 
was  worth  her  weight  in  diamonds. 

When  the  hackman  at  Boston  demanded,  with 
oaths  and  threats,  an  exorbitant  fare  of  Mr.  Wil- 
lard,  the  latter,  to  avoid  a  quarrel,  would  have 
acceded  to  the  unjust  charge  had  not  aunt  Esther, 
majestically  confronting  the  bully,  bade  Mr.  Wil- 
lard  put  up  his  purse,  saying, — 

"I'll  settle  this  bill,  sir,"  tendering  the  aston- 
ished Jehu  the  legal  amount.  Eying  her  an  in- 
stant, he  pocketed  the  money  without  a  syllable 
of  protest. 

Farther  on,  a  baggage-master  would  have  col- 
lected three  dollars  and  a  half  for  his  private 
benefit,  had  not  aunt  Esther  come  to  the  rescue. 

At  Buffalo,  the  hackman,  who  had  engaged  to 
take  them  directly  to  the  waiting  steamer,  landed 
them  instead  at  a  hotel,  saying  the  boat  had  gone. 
But  while  trunks  and  bandboxes  were  with  re- 
markable rapidity  being  conveyed  into  the  over- 
hospitable  house,  the  urbane  proprietor  standing 
smiling  on  the  steps,  waiting  to  bow  them  in  also, 
aunt  Esther,  leaning  from  the  carriage,  inquired 
by  whose  authority  they  were  brought  there. 

"  Too  late  for  the  boat,  to-night,"  answered  the 
driver;  '^step  along,  madam,"  taking  hold  of 
Mrs.  Willard's  arm. 


THE    LITTLE    HUNCHBACK.  5$ 

"Sir,"  exclaimed  aunt  Esther,  "you  contracted 
to  put  us  aboard  the  steamer  in  season.  You 
shall  do  so,  or  pay  the  damage  to  us  of  our  de- 
tention, or  I'll  report  you  to  the  police." 

Hackmen  are  quick  at  reading  character — 
and  landlords  no  less  so.  The  twain  whis- 
pered together,  the  baggage  was  ill-naturedly 
restored,  the  vehicle  whizzed  for  the  wharf,  and 
they  were  aboard  the  boat  a  full  hour  before  it 
sailed. 

You  are  now  introduced  to  the  "  old  maid." 

If  we  slight  the  boys,  we  shall  offend  the 
mother.  Georgie  you  are  slightly  acquainted 
with.  He  is  a  bright,  active  lad,  his  leading 
weaknesses  being  a  disposition  to  fret  for  the 
sake  of  a  scene,  and  an  inordinate  love  of  pep- 
permint and  sugar  in  hot  water  —  indulged  in  for 
his  "stomach's  sake  and  often  infirmities;"  a 
very  handy  boy  at  almost  anything. 

Ferdinand,  the  eldest,  in  his  seventeenth  year, 
manly,  smart,  and  muscular,  somewhat  vain  of 
his  extreme  age,  and  also  of  his  handsome  face 
and  figure  and  personal  prowess ;  slightly  too 
fond  of  dress  also. 

Between  these  is  Frankie,  "going  on  **  to  thir- 
teen, nicknamed  Little  Hunchy,  because  of  a 
spinal  curvature  with  which  he  is  deformed. 

Frankie  is  a  character.  When  about  five,  he 
was  playing  on  the  ice,  when  a  drunkard  cam« 


56  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

reeling  by,  pelted  with  snowballs  by  rude  boys, 
and,  I  am  sorry  to  add,  girls.  Too  much  intox- 
icated to  discriminate  between  the  innocent  and 
the  guilty,  seeing  little  Frankie,  he  seized  him 
in  his  blind  rage,  and  dashed  him  to  the  frozen 
ground,  and  staggered  on. 

The  child  did  not  appear  to  be  seriously  hurt 
at  the  time,  but  a  year  afterwards  it  was  observed 
that  his  back  was  bent,  and  in  spite  of  medical 
skill,  intelligent  nursing,  and  carefully  adjusted 
gymnastics,  the  vertebrae  kept  pushing  outwards. 
As  is  the  case  in  such  affections,  the  sternum 
(breast-bone)  also  curved  outwards.  This  double 
crooking  sadly  interfered  with  his  bodily  develop- 
ment otherwise. 

Ten  years  after  the  cruel  concussion,  his  legs 
and  arms  were  singularly  slender  and  feeble,  his 
height  much  below  that  of  youth  at  his  age, 
while  the  disproportionate  humped  back  and  chest 
gave  him  the  appearance  of  "old  head"  and 
shoulders  "  on  young  "  legs.- 

Frankie's  head  was  a  study.  Long  from  the 
frontal  region  to  the  lateral,  and  widening  in  its 
sweep ;  a  prominent  perceptive  forehead ;  calm, 
reflective,  dark-gray  eyes ;  the  upper  lashes  sin- 
gularly long,  and  curling  boldly  upward ;  heavy 
eyebrows  extending  nearly  to  the  ears  ;  a  picked 
snub-nose,  the  incomplete  nostrils  causing  the 
end  of  that  organ  to  set  up  the  more  decidedly ; 


THE    LITTLE    HUNCHBACK.  57 

hair  abnormally  coarse,  erect,  and  bristling,  in  a 
line  from  neck  to  forehead,  imparting  a  belliger- 
ent aspect;  face  serious,  depressed,  sagacious, 
defiant.  Such  is  a  rough  portrait  of  the  deformed 
child-man. 

Child-man  I  say,  for  in  stature  and  physical 
ability  so  almost  infantile,  but  the  surmounting  so 
very,  very  old  !  Then  his  voice.  Then  his 
voice !  You  would  expect  from  that  massive, 
sage-like,  impressive  head,  deep  bass  tones.  On 
the  contrary,  from  the  perked-up,  compressed 
chest  issued  marvellously  thin,  yet  slightly  harsh, 
piping  sounds. 

A  sad  life  had  Frankie's  been  since  rum  laid 
its  bloated,  blasting  hand  upon  him.  Strangers 
saw  him  only  to  cry  out,  "  What  a  deformity  !  " 
Neighbors  excla:med,  "If  he  had  been  my  child, 
I  had  rather  he  had  died  than  live  to  be  so 
unshapely."  Wherever  he  went,  he  attracted 
attention,  and  few  guarded,  even  in  his  presence, 
their  thoughtlessly  expressed  commiseration.  He 
had  heard  thousands  of  lips  declare  him  a  mon- 
strosity —  a  being  only  to  be  exclaimed  at  and 
shocked  by.  Yet  he  was  possessed  of  an  ex- 
quisite delicacy  of  feeling,  and  was  too  sensitive, 
even  had  he  remained  well  formed. 

Consider  his  condition.  lie  was  little ;  the 
large  looked  down  on  him.  He  was  weak  ;  the 
strong  could  assail  him.     He  was  distorted ;  the 


58  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

compliments  paid  to  the  comely  were  condemna- 
tion to  himself. 

At  school  he  was  unable  to  join  in  boyish 
sports,  and  could,  therefore,  contribute  little  to 
the  general  stock  of  amusement ;  and  being  so 
queerly  made  up,  so  different  from  his  mates,  like 
a  speckled  bird  all  the  rest  picked  at  him.  Alas 
for  the  poor,  the  unfortunate,  the  deformed,  in 
this  superficial  world  ! 

So,  poor,  unfortunate  Frankie,  as  the  years 
wore  on,  came  to  look  on  mankind  as  so  many 
social  foes.  When  a  new  comer  opened  his  lips, 
Frankie  expected  him  to  make  some  stinging 
criticism  on  his  bodily  infirmities.  He  had  expe- 
rienced small  consideration  for  his  feelings,  and 
he  did  not  anticipate  much.  And  as  "  self-pres- 
ervation is  the  first  law  of  nature,"  it  became  a 
habit  to  be  always  mentally  on  the  defensive, 
ready  to  return  glance  for  glance,  or,  if  need 
be,  word  for  word,  although,  for  the  most  part, 
he  endured  the  criticisms  of  the  rude  with  a  sort 
of  savage  contempt. 

As  a  result  of  all  this,  Frankie  seldom  smiled, 
talked  little,  and  as  his  reliable  means  of  protec- 
tion lay  in  his  looks  and  oral  remonstrances,  his 
precociously  mature  face  assumed  more  and  more 
an  antagonistic,  forbidding,  consequential  expres- 
sion, which  inarticulately  said  to  the  starer, 
"  Mind  your  business  !  "  and  to  those  tempted  to 


THE    LITTLE    HUNCHBACK.  59 

undue  familiarity,  "  Hands  off,  or  take  the  conse- 
quences I " 

And  when  he  rebuked  impertinence,  his  coun- 
tenance expressed  terrible  things  —  a  method  of 
defence  harmless,  it  is  true,  yet  often  more  effec- 
tive than  if,  with  less  repelling  power  of  phys- 
iognomy, he  had  possessed  more  executive  ability. 

I  alluded  to  the  peculiar  appearance  of  Frankie's 
hair.  The  effect  of  the  emotions  on  the  human 
hair  is  well  known.  Excessive  terror  causes  it  to 
rise  —  to  "  stand  on  end,"  as  the  common  phrase 
is.  Grief  or  anxiety  turns  it  white.  Is  it  improb- 
able, then,  that  the  hair  on  Frankie's  cranium 
grew  stiffly  perpendicular  because  of  his  life-long 
unhappiness ?  Disappointed,  suspicious,  resentful, 
incessantly  irritable,  —  might  not  these  feelings, 
so  deep,  perpetual,  controlling,  have  changed  the 
structural  character  of  his  hair?  We  propound 
the  query  for  others  to  answer. 

Yet,  let  us  repeat,  Frankie  was  exquisitely 
sensitive  and  tenderly  affectionate.  He  loved 
those  he  did  love  deeply,  strongly,  undyingly. 
His  mother  knew  this.  His  brothers  intuitively 
had  glimpses  of  the  fact,  gruff  as  his  manner 
was  towards  them,  and  boyishly  inconsiderate  as 
they  too  frequently  were  of  his  happiness. 

Ferdinand  and  Georgie  were  blessed  with  an 
exuberance  of  animal  life.  They  inherited  a  good 
constitution,  and  were  sound  in  health.     To  run 


60  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

climb,  leap,  wrestle,  swim,  were  much  easier  than 
not  to.  Praised  for  their  fine  figures,  by  acquaint- 
ances, in  the  same  breath  that  Frankie  was  pitied, 
it  was  natural  that  they  appreciated  their  physi- 
cal superiority  to  their  unfortunate  brother. 

With  infinite  longing  he  would  watch  them  at 
their  games  and  their  light  tasks.  O,  were  he 
only  like  them  I  And  how  familiar  became  their 
reiterated  question,  natural,  yet  triumphant, — 

"Don't  you  wish  you  could  do  this,  Frankie?" 
as  they  displayed  before  him  their  strength  and 
agility  !  How  Mrg.  Willard  wept  one  day,  when, 
some  lady  callers  having  in  his  hearing  compli- 
mented Ferdie  and  Georgie,  and  pitied  him  for 
being  distorted  and  dependent,  after  they  left, 
the  little  hunchback,  sad-eyed,  pale,  yet  tearless, 
his  shrill,  minute  voice  tremulous,  said,  — 

"  Mother,  do  you  wish  I  was  dead  ?  " 

"Why,  no,  child,"  she  replied;  "what  makes 
you  ask  such  a  question  ?  " 

"Everybody  pities  you  on  my  account,"  he  an- 
swered, adding,  with  a  pain  too  poignant  for 
tears,  "I  don't  see  of  what  use  I  can  ever  be  to 
you.  " 

But  does  a  mother  ever  love  a  crippled  or  mal- 
formed child  less  than  the  more  favored?  Mrs. 
Willard  pressed  the  dwarf  to  her  heart,  the  big 
old-young  head  strained  to  her  throbbing*  bosom, 
and  exclaimed,  — 


THE    LITTLE    HUNCHBACK.  6t 

''Wish  you  dead,  my  darling  Frankie?  No; 
better  they  all  die  than  you.  You  are  the  dear- 
est child  I  have." 

From  that  moment  Frankie  never  doubted  her, 
but  increasingly  distrusted  the  carping  w^orld. 


62  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   IMMIGRANT   WAGON. 

''There  he  is!"  cried  Mrs.  Willard ;  and 
she  turned  pale. 

It  was  early  morning.  A  heavy  mist  envel- 
oped the  river ;  but  her  eager  eyes,  piercing  the 
fog-curtain,  recognized,  in  the  foremost  passen- 
ger descending  from  the  steamer,  the  young  man 
who  had  so  nobly  volunteered  to  search  for  her 
husband.  The  three  days  the  stranger  had  been 
absent  were  weary,  anxious  days  to  her.  Not  a 
boat  touched  at  the  landing,  even  in  the  dark- 
ness, but  she  heard  the  signal  bell — hopingly, 
forebodingly  watching  for  tidings  of  her  lost  com- 
panion. 

But,  impatient  as  she  had  been  to  hear  from 
the  young  man,  now  that  he  had  arrived  she 
trembled  at  his  approach.  Ah,  how  much,  at 
some  solemn  crisis,  is  crowded  into  a  brief  inter- 
val !  Was  she  a  widow,  and  her  sons  without  a 
father?  A  word  now,  and  that  awful  question 
would  be  settled. 

The    young    man  walked  towards   the   hotel 


THE    IMMTGRAT^T    WAGON.  63 

slowly  and  gravely.  With  womanly  quickness 
she  saw  that  he  came  with  an  unwelcome  mes- 
sage, else  his  step  would  be  eager  and  light. 

"Well?"  she  whispered,  inquiringly,  as  he 
entered. 

"Madam,"  said  he, —  and  he  paused,  as  if 
deliberating  how  to  word  what  he  had  to  com- 
municate,—  "I  have  learned  nothing  favorable 
or  unfavorable.  Nothing  has  been  seen  of  Mr. 
Willard  at  either  of  the  landings.  Still  he  may 
have  been  rescued  from  the  water,  and  carried  to 
some  obscure  cabin  among  the  bluffs ;  or  possibly 
a  steamer  may  have  taken  him  aboard.  I  have, 
however,  sent  back  to  Dunleith,  to  have  posters 
printed  describing  Mr.  Willard,  and  calling  for 
information  concerning  him.  A  copy  will  be  put 
up  in  every  conspicuous  place,  circulated  on  the 
steamers,  and  among  the  settlers  along  shore.  1 
see  no  alternative  but  to  await  the  effect  of  the 
handbills." 

Meanwhile  the  whole  family,  entering  the  room, 
had  clustered  about  their  new  friend,  breathlessly 
listening. 

Slightly  aside  was  aunt  Esther,  her  face  par- 
tially averted,  her  lips  firmly  knit  together,  and 
her  countenance  worried,  yet  resolute. 

Ferdinand  leaned  against  the  door-casing,  in  a 
pensive,  thoughtful  attitude,  weighing  each -sen- 
tence freighted  with  so  much  significance. 


64  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Georgie,  his  hand  clasped  in  his  mother*s, 
gazed  into  her  face,  as  if  more  troubled  for  her 
than  aught  else. 

The  Hunchback  had  drawn  a  chair  to  the  plain 
centre-table  occupying  the  middle  of  the  apart- 
ment, his  sharp  elbows  resting  on  the  stand,  his 
great  head  propped  on  his  weak  little  hands. 

"  I  am  sure,  sir,"  said  aunt  Esther,  breaking 
the  terrible  silence  that  had  settled  on  them  all, 
struck  dumb  as  they  were  by  the  blow  that  had 
smitten  the  husband  and  father  from  their  side, 
—  "I  am  sure,  sir,  that  we  are  greatly  obliged ;  " 
but  she  did  not  finish  the  acknowledgment ;  her 
words  choked  her,  and  simultaneously  they  al) 
began  to  sob. 

"  Madam,"  said  the  young  man,  addressing 
Mrs.  Willard,  "may  I  ask  if  you  will  deem  it 
best  to  return  east  immediately?" 

"T  could  not,"  she  faltered,  "  while  my  poor 
husband's  fate  is  unsettled." 

'"But,"  he  gently  suggested,  "to  board  long  al 
this  hotel  would  be  very  expensive.  You  men- 
tioned that  Mr.  WiJlard  had  the  money  with  him. 
Will  you  be  offended  if  I  inquire  what  your  con- 
dition is  financially?" 

"Fortunately,"  w^as  the  reply,  "I  persuaded 
Mr.  Willard,  on  reaching  the  boat,  to  let  me  take 
charge  of  a  portion  of  the  funds.  Here  is  what 
he  handed  me ; "  and  she  counted  from  her  purse 
fifty-five  dollars. 


THE    IMMIGRANT    WAGON.  65 

"A  sorry  amount  for  a  family,"  was  the  re- 
sponse. "  Now,  I  have  been  revolving  this  sub- 
ject, and  have  a  plan  to  propose.  You  would 
scarcely  wish  to  go  back  to  New  England  at 
present;  that  is  plain.  And  had  you  means,  it 
would  be  imprudent  to  tarry  here.  There  have 
been  copious  rains  this  season.  The  Mississippi, 
therefore,  overflowed  wide  tracts  of  land.  The 
freshet  is  now  subsiding,  leaving  the  submerged 
vegetation  exposed  to  the  sun.  This  will  create 
sickness  ;  and  here,  shut  in  among  these  bluffs,  the 
air  is,  you  have  reason  to  know,  intensely  hot, 
so  that  the  miasma  is  developed  more  rapidly, 
and  acts  with  a  deadlier  influence  on  the  system. 
Remain  here  two  weeks,  or  perhaps  even  one, 
and  some  of  you  will  be  down  with  ague  and 
fever,  or  some  other  bilious  disease.  Now,  my 
idea  is,  that  you  had  better  go  off*  upon  the 
healthful  prairies,  away  from  the  miasma  of  the 
river,  among  the  large-hearted  prairie  farmers, 
take  up  land,  and  set  to  work  improving  it  while 
waiting  to  hear  from  your  husband.  How  does 
this  strike  youV^  he  inquired,  turning  to  aunt  Es- 
ther. 

"This  is  my  sister.  Miss  Esther  Willard.  She 
disapproved  of  our  removal  west,  and  only  came 
out  to  accompany  us  on  the  road,"  explained 
Mrs.  Willard. 

"  Then  she  does  not  fancy  the  frontier  ?  " 
5 


66  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"No." 

"  Her  opinion  will  not,  therefore,  be  biassed  in 
favor  of  my  plan.  Miss  Willard,  have  the  kind- 
ness to  express  your  views  freely  on  the  point." 

"  Flow  far,  sir,  would  the  family  have  to  go  to 
find  good,  unoccupied  land?  " 

"  O,  not  a  great  ways,  necessarily  ;  but  I  would 
advise  from  sixty  to  eighty  miles." 

"  How  would  they  get  there  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  not  a  conveyance  can  be  obtained." 

"Who  would  do  the  farming?  " 

"  These  boys,"  returned  the  young  man.  "  Two 
of  them  are  active  and  strong  ;  the  other  would  be 
a  safe  companion  and  adviser.  Farming  on  the 
fertile  prairies,  you  must  recollect,  is  vastly  dif- 
ferent from  what  it  is  in  rocky,  sterile  New  Eng- 
land." 

"  What  would  land  cost?  " 

"There  are,"  he  replied,  "two  sorts  subject  to 
settlement.  First,  'school  lands,'  so  called  be- 
cause reserved  to  be  sold  for  school  purposes. 
These,  at  some  appointed  time,  will  be  offered 
for  sale  at  public  auction.  This  may  not  take 
place  for  years.  Until  then  the  squatter  or  occu- 
pant has  the  use  of  it  free  ;  and  when  it  is  dis- 
posed of,  usually  by  courtesy  of  the  neighboring 
settlers,  he  has  the  first  chance  at  bidding.  The 
other  lands  can  be  bought  at  one  dollar  and 
twenty-five   cents  per  acre,  a  cabin  and   a  few 


THE    IMMIGRANT    WAGON.  67 

other  improvements  being  requisite  as  proof  that 
the  preemptor  is  an  actual  settler,  and  not  a  mere 
speculator." 

"  What  would  the  boys  do  for  school  and 
church  privileges?" 

"  O,  their  aunt  could  teach  them  for  a  while," 
he  smilingly  responded,  "  should  she  decide  to 
share  their  fortunes  till  they  get  fairly  started. 
But  immigration  is  rapidly  coming  in.  Educa- 
tional and  Christian  advantages  will  soon  be  en- 
joyed, and  railroads  must  shortly  be  built.  Land, 
if  well  chosen,  —  and  on  the  route  I  would  mark 
out  one  could  not  select  amiss,  — can  but  rise  in 
value  ;  so  that,  while  waiting  to  hear  from  Mr. 
Willard,  instead  of  getting  sick  and  consuming 
what  little  means  the  family  possesses,  they  will 
gain  in  health  and  vigor,  and  perhaps  attain  a 
nice  property.  Now ,  what  say  you  to  this  scheme, 
Miss  Willard?" 

The  maiden  lady's  calculating  nose  seemed  to 
lengthen,  the  sympathetic  ear-drops  waxed  trem- 
ulous, her  features  worked  as  if  a  tenacious 
prejudice  and  strongly  repressed  emotions  were 
fighting  against  conviction.  At  length  she 
said,  — 

"  I  suppose  you  are  correct,  sir." 

"And  you  will  not  forsake  your  sister  in  her 
trouble?" 

There  was  a  painful  struggle.     Dear,  orderljr 


68  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

New  England, — where  neatness,  thrift,  and  plenty 
reigned,  where  she  was  born  and  nurtured,  — and 
forms  of  friends  she  might  not  again  behold  ! 
She  was  thinking  of  all  this,  and  putting  it  in 
contrast  to  the  loneliness,  toil,  and  deprivation  of 
the  wild  prairie.  Could  she,  for  others'  sake, 
give  up  the  old  associations  and  comforts  for  the 
new  scenes?  Crushing  the  rebellious  regrets, 
she  answered,  — 

"  I  shall  not  leave  the  famil3^" 

"  And,"  pursued  her  interrogator,  "  how  do  the 
boys  vote  on  this  question  ?  " 

"  I'm  for  the  prairies,"  cried  impulsive  Georgie. 

"  So  am  I,"  added  Ferdinand. 

"And  Frankie?  "  inquired  the  young  man. 

But  little  Hunchback  looked  grave  and  de- 
pressed, and  sadly  shook  his  head. 

"  What  are  your  objections  ?  "  asked  the  young 
man. 

"  I  think  the  plan  may  be  wise,  but  these  boys 
never  can  carry  it  out.  They  haven't  counted 
the  cost,"  replied  the  dwarf.  "  A  great  deal  of 
hard  work  will  have  to  be  done,  and  they  don't 
like  too  much  of  it.  They'll  g«t  discouraged  in 
less  than  a  week." 

"  O,  little  Hunchy'sblue  !  "  interrupted  Georgie. 
"  I  guess  we'll  do  as  much  as  he  will." 

"True,"  replied  the  Hunchback,  gloomily; 
**but  I  can  do  nothing." 


THE    IMMIGRANT    WAGON.  6^ 

"Well,  all  seem  to  regard  the  plan  as  a  good 
one,"  said  their  adviser.  "  Next  comes  the  matter 
of  ways  and  means.  Perhaps,  however,  it  will 
give  you  more  confidence  in  the  project  to  learn 
that  I  am  well  acquainted  with  pioneer  life.  My 
name  is  Thomas  Jones.  My  parents  were  origi- 
nally from  the  east.  They  emigrated  in  conse- 
quence of  my  father's  losses  in  business,  and  the 
persecutions  of  creditors.  His  difficulties  unset- 
tled his  mind  in  a  certain  direction,  and  we  led  a 
roaming  life  in  the  wilderness,  too  often  removing 
to  get  ahead  pecuniarily.  He  got  to  be  a  famous 
hunter  and  marksman,  and  was  cool  and  brave 
in  danger.  He  removed  at  last  to  Spirit  Lake, 
and  was  mortally  wounded  there  while  defend- 
ing the  settlers  at  the  time  of  the  Indian  uprising. 
My  sister  Sarah,  too,  was  killed,  and  Charley 
and  little  Bub  only  escaped  by  concealing  them- 
selves in  a  hollow  tree.  Soldiers  from  a  frontier 
fort  came  to  the  relief  of  the  cabin  so  bravely  de- 
fended by  my  dear  father,  and  subsequently  re- 
turned for  Charley  and  Bub,  who  had  taken  pos- 
session of  the  forsaken  dwelling,  and  defended  it 
against  a  second  attack  of  the  Indians.  After 
father's  death,  which  occurred  at  the  fort,  my 
mother,  having  been  well  educated,  became  gov- 
erness to  the  two  children,  Alice  and  Walter 
McElroy,  of  the  commander  of  the  fortress. 
Through   the   generosity   of  a   friend,    and   the 


70  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

kindness  of  the  good  missionary  at  L ,  I  was 

subsequently  sent  east  to  study  for  the  ministry, 
and  am  now  on  my  way  to  spend  vacation  with 
my  relatives  and  acquaintances  of  the  frontier. 
Good  by,  now,  for  a  little  while.  This  evening 
I  will  see  you  further  concerning  our  plan." 

"  What  a  splendid  fellow  that  is  !  "  exclaimed 
Ferdinand,  gazing  gratefully  and  admiringly  out 
of  the  window  after  young  Jones.  "Wasn't  it 
fortunate  that  he  happened  along  just  as  he 
did?" 

''Happened  along  !  "  repeated  his  aunt,  look- 
ing shocked.  "  Do  you  believe  in  chance  ?  God 
sent  him.  Who  of  the  thousands  we  saw  on  the 
journey  paid  us  any  generous  attention?  Did 
they  not  each  ^take  care  of  number  one  '?  And 
how  remarkable  that  he,  of  all  that  crowd  on  the 
steamer,  should  be  just  where  he  could  hear  us 
speaking  of  our  dreadful  trouble  !  Boys,  this  is 
a  providence.  God's  hand  is  in  it,  and  this  as- 
surance leads  me  to  think  we  shall  get  along  on 
the  frontier." 

"Does  God  order  everything?"  piped  little 
Hunchie,  crossly. 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,  Frankie,"  kindly  re- 
plied his  aunt.  "There  are  laws  which,  if  we 
break,  we  must  suffer  the  penalty.  If  we  care- 
lessly expose  our  money,  we  may  be  robbed. 
W^e  are  free  agents,  and  can  choose  good  or  evil. 


THE    IMMIGRANT   WAGON.  71 

If  a  man  chose  to  rob  another,  he  can  do  it. 
We  are  not  machines.  But  when  we  suffer  for 
our  own  faults,  or  through  the  wickedness  of 
others,  God,  in  pity,  often  sends  his  servants  to 
_our  assistance.  And  /  do  not  doubt  he  sent 
Thomas  Jones." 

Ah,  what  a  prop  in  adversity  is  faith  in  One 
who  not  only  has  a  father's  loving  interest  in  his 
children,  but  who  wisely  and  powerfully  befriends 
them,  causing  "  all  things  to  work  together  for  their 
good  !  "  How  much  more  rational  and  ennobling 
such  trust  than  to  suppose  ourselves  and  the  great 
universe  to  have  happened  into  existence,  an  ex- 
istence without  forethought,  intelligence,  order, 
or  end,  to  be  whirled  remorselessly  about  by 
blind  and  pitiless  Fate  ! 

Aunt  Esther's  words  sent  a  thrill  of  hope  to 
Mrs.  Willard's  heart,  and,  sadly  smiling,  she  re- 
marked, — 

"  O,  if  indeed  the  mighty  God  is  watching  over 
us,  I  must  not  despair.'* 

"Ferdie,  Frankie,  Georgie,  where  are  you? 
Come  out  here,"  shouted  a  cheerful  voice  in  front 
of  the  tavern. 

The  lads  seized  their  caps,  and  hastened  to 
see  what  was  wanted.  In  a  huge  Pennsylvania 
wagon  —  "long  enough,"  as  they  say  in  that 
state,  "  to  reach  from  one  mud-hole  to  another  " 


72  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

—  sat  the  speaker,  reins  in  hand.  It  wa^ 
Thomas  Jones.  The  boys  started  in  surprise, 
and  dolefully  exclaimed,  — 

"  O,  you  are  not  going  away —  are  you?  " 

"Not  yet,"  was  the  smiling  reply.  "How. 
would  you  like  to  travel  in  a  carriage  of  this 
sort?  Ask  your  mother  and  aunt  to  step  this 
way." 

As  the  two  ladies  approached,  the  young  man 
dismounted,  and  said,  — 

"  Mrs.  Willard,  how  would  you  and  your  house- 
hold fancy  a  trip  into  prairiedom  in  this  establish- 
ment? Not  very  elegant,  you  perceive;  but 
please  glance  in,  and  see  how  much  room  there 
is  inside."  And  he  gently  constrained  her  to 
mount  to  the  driver's  seat.  "It  will  accommo- 
date you  all,  and  goods  enough  almost  to  furnish 
a  cabin.  And  there  are  the  horses,  not  hand- 
some, but  serviceable.  It  will  be  delightful  wan* 
dering  over  the  prairies  in  this  way  !  Believe 
me,  you  will  enjoy  it." 

"Whose  team  is  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Willard. 

"Yours,  madam." 

^^Mine!^'  she  ejaculated. 

"  Mother's  !  "  echoed  the  boys. 

"  The  horses  will  stand.  Let  us  go  into  the 
house,  and  I  will  explain.  You  see,  madam,  I 
was  very  much  perplexed  how  to  get  you  on  your 
enterprise.     Stage-coaching  would    eat  up  your 


THE    IMMIGRANT    WAGON.  73 

means,  and  leave  you  distant  from  unpreempted 
land.  As  I  was  walking  up  the  street,  turning 
this  subject  over  in  my  mind,  before  a  shop-shanty 
was  this  team,  and  the  owner  was  engaged  in 
bargaining  to  buy  out  the  store.  All  that  stood 
in  the  way  of  a  trade  were  the  wagon  and  horses. 
The  immigrant,  if  he  went  into  trading,  would 
not  longer  need  it,  and  the  shopkeeper  did  not 
wish  it.  Here,  perhaps,  is  a  providence,  thought 
I ;  and  stepping  up,  I  inquired  how  little  money 
would  pay  for  the  wagon  and  span. 

"*Wal,  stranger,'  answered  the  immigrant, 
'bein'  as  I'm  bound  ter  have  this  ere  shop,  I'll 
part  with  the  hull  concern  dog  cheap.' 

"^  I'll  consider  it,' said  I. 

"  Returning,  I  entered  the  bar-room.  I'm  sel- 
dom in  there,  you  are  aware,  madam.  The  room 
was  filled  with  smoke  and  smokers.  Walking 
straight  to  the  bar,  I  said  to  the  landlord,  in  a 
loud  tone,  — 

"'That's  a  hard  case.' 

"'What?'  he  asked,  still  stirring  toddy  for  a 
toper. 

"'Why,  about  that  woman  up  stairs,  whose 
husband  was  lost  in  the  river.' 

"'I  heard  about  that,'  said  he,  indifferently. 

"'But,'  I  persisted,  speaking  louder,  'its  a 
very  hard  case.' 

"'What's  the  row,  friend?*  asked  a  lounger. 


74  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

" '  I'll  tell  you,'  said  I ;  and  I  rehearsed  the 
whole  account,  having  the  fixed  attention  of  all 
present. 

"'Is  she  gwine  back  ter  the  east?'  inquired  a 
rough  customer,  knocking  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe. 

"  *  No ;  she  thinks  too  much  of  her  husband. 
She's  bound  to  stay  till  she  hears  what  has  be- 
come of  him.' 

"'That's  the  kind,'  he  replied. 

"'She  ain't  gwine  ter  board  here  on  that  on.- 
sartinty  —  is  she?  '  he  further  inquired. 

" '  No  ;  she  and  her  boys  are  too  sm'art  for  that. 
They  are  going  out  on  the  prairies.  But,'  I 
added,  'the  husband  had  most  of  the  money  with 
him ;  and  how  the  women  and  boys  can  get 
there  is  what  puzzles  me.  There's  a  good  wagon 
and  span  for  sale  up  here,  and  if  I  had  the 
money  — ' 

"'Stranger,' broke  in  a  burly  fellow,  pulling 
out  a  greasy  wallet,  '  I'm  'most  dead  broke ;  but 
ef  yer  don't  let  me  have  a  finger  in  that  pie,  I'll 
know  the  reason.  Here,  gentlemen,'  he  contin- 
ued, passing  round  his  jammed  and  ancient  hat, 
*  put  in  3^er  shiners  fer  the  women  and  the  bo3^s.' 

"The  result  is,  the  team  belongs  to  Mrs.  Wil- 
lard,  and  if  she  don't  use  it,  I  don't  know  what 
will  become  of  it.  But  come,  Ferdie,"  he  in- 
stantly added,  "4et  us  go  and  put  up  the  horses; 
then  I'll  make  suggestions  concerning  the  route.'' 


THE    IMMIGRANT   WAGON.  75 

It  was  late  that  night  when  the  Willards  and 
their  young  pioneer  friend  separated,  for  he  had 
much  advice  to  give,  and  numberless  questions 
to  answer.  Besides,  he  was  to  leave  by  stage  in 
the  morning,  and  this  w^as  their  parting  inter- 
view. With  pen  and  ink  he  sketched  their 
course  geographically,  and  also  presented  them 
with  a  pocket  map  of  the  country.  These  Fer- 
die  took  charge  of. 

"Good  by,  Mr.  Jones,"  cried  the  lads  in  a 
breath,  as  he  left. 

"Boys,"  he  replied,  deeply  moved,  "  my  moth- 
er, brothers,  and  sisters  always  called  me  Tom. 
Don't  ?mster  me  again." 

"Tom,  dear,  dear  Tom!"  cried  Georgie, 
throwing  his  arms  around  his  neck ;  ^^l  do  love 
you  so !  " 


76  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


It  was  a  bright  morning  when  Tom  took  stage 

from Landing,   on  the   Mississippi,  for  the 

frontier  prairies. 

There  was  a  full  load  aboard,  albeit  every 
public  conveyance  can  always  accommodate 
"  one  more."  A  merry  company  they  were,  too. 
All  men,  journeying  from  various  quarters  for 
various  purposes  —  health,  pleasure,  speculation, 
to  "  locate,"  or  to  visit  immigrant  friends  in  their 
wilderness  homes. 

Well  may  you  imagine  that  the  "unruly  mem- 
ber "  enjoyed  a  gala  day  in  that  crowded  vehicle, 
for  a  stage-coach* is  a  social  institution  anywhere, 
but  especially  so  where  the  freedom  of  western 
manners  bears  sway. 

A  "  light-weighted,"  wiry,  ever-at-motion  Hoo- 
sier,  with  twinkling  black  eyes,  and  a  saucily 
upturned  nose,  started  conversation  by  plying 
each  in  turn  with  personal  questions,  put  with 
the  familiarity  of  an  intimate  acquaintance,  his 
interrogatories  being  always  answered  cordially, 


BURR-OAK    CI]?ER.  *^>J 

sometimes  wittily.  They  could  the  less  resent 
the  liberties  he  took,  since  at  the  outset,  in  a  fevt" 
characteristic  words,  he  sketched  his  own  history, 
announcing  himself  as  "  a  shoolmaster  from  In- 
gianny,  going  to  Minnesoty  to  teach  school,  if  he 
could  get  one ;  if  not,  to  hire  out  farmin'." 

"What  \s  your  name?"  he  began,  directing  his 
attention  to  a  portly  gentleman  of  forty-live,  oc- 
cupying the  right  hand  corner  of  the  front  seat. 

"  Hammond,  Dr.  Hammond,"  was  replied,  with 
frank  good  humor. 

"Where  from?" 

"  The  wooden  nutmeg  and  pine  wood  pumpkin 
seed  state,  erroneously  called  Connecticut  in  the 
geographies." 

"Got  a  family?" 

"  Too  young  to  marry." 

"  Calc'late  to  settle  in  these  parts  ?  " 

"  If  'twill  pay." 

"  Going  to  invest  in  land  ?  " 

"  May  risk  a  trifle  where  it's  a  sure  thing." 

Passing  thus  in  regular  order  among  the  pas- 
sengers, with  an  assurance,  volubility,  persisten- 
cy, and  ingenuity  that  kept  the  company  in  a 
roar,  sometimes  putting  a  new  question  before  the 
response  to  the  previous  one  was  fairly  out  of  the 
mouth,  he  reached  the  last  person  but  one  —  a 
young  man  in  hunter's  garb,  and  carrying  a  rifle. 
He  was  of  Scotch-American  descent,  hardy  and 


78  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Opinionated;  had  been,  he  said,  on  the  frontier 
five  years ;  was  recently  from  a  hunting  expedi- 
tion on  the  Red  River  with  friendly  Indians. 
This  experienced  youth  the  "  Ingianny "  man 
bored  with  numberless  inquiries  concerning  the 
climate,  soil,  productions,  growth,  and  population 
of  the  country. 

"The  settlers  are  from  most  all  parts,  I 
reckons." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  hunter,  naming  different 
nationalities  represented,  ending  with  "Norwe- 
gians." 

"  Norwegians  !     What  sort  of  folks  are  they  ?  " 

"Don't  fancy  them,  nor  their  heathenish  jab- 
ber," was  the  narrow  reply. 

"  Are  they  peaceable  ?  " 

"  O,  they  never  make  any  trouble,  are  gener- 
ally hard-working  and  honest.  But  for  one,  I 
can't  relish  the  idea  of  these  foreigners  coming 
over  here  and  getting  the  best  land.  And  of  all 
the  foreigners,  I  despise  the  Norwegians  most. 
They  are  different  from  anybody  else.  I  can  tell 
one  as  far  as  I  can  see." 

"  And  w^here  are  you  from  ?  "  asked  our  ques- 
tioner of  the  remaining  passenger  —  a  man  of 
thirty,  of  fine  physiognomy  and  gentlemanly 
bearing. 

"  From  Norway,"  was  the  affable  response. 

"Then  you  are. a  Norwegian?"  returned  the 
astonished  Hoosier. 


BURR-OAK  CIDER.  79 

"I  am,"  he  pleasantly  replied. 

An  embarrassing  silence  fell  on  the  party  at 
this  unexpected  denouement^  from  the  effects  cf 
which  even  the  versatile  and  irrepressible  "school- 
master" could  not  rally,  while  the  imprudent 
youth,  whose  eyes  were  so  keen  for  Norwegians, 
looked  chagrined  and  chopfallen  enough  at  the 
sharp  rebuke  his  prejudice  and  evil-speaking  had 
received;  for  the  comparison  which  the  incident 
led  us  to  make,  between  the  young  hunter  and 
the  well-bred  stranger  at  his  side,  was  not  over- 
favorable  for  the  former, 

"Big  spring  I  Wud  ayther  iv  the  gintlemen 
like  a  taste  uv  the  warther?"  shouted  the  wide- 
awake Irish  driver,  as  he  reined  in  the  horses, 
and,  seizing  a  pail,  hurried  to  a  ravine  a  few 
rods  off,  followed  by  the  passengers. 

The  limpid  water,  cold  and  sweet,  gushed  from 
the  earth  in  a  pow^erful  stream. 

"  Magnificent !  "  ejaculated  the  doctor,  swal- 
lowing great  draughts.  "Wouldn't  take  a  thou- 
sand dollars  for  this  spring,  if  it  was  on  my  place 
at  home!  Will  you  try  some?"  he  added,  rins- 
ing his  flask,  and  passing  it,  refilled,  to  Tom. 

Despite  the  slight  flavor  of  whiskey  that  still 
clung  to  the  drinking-vessel,  Tom  could  but  join 
in  his  enthusiasm  :  and,  as  they  resumed  their 
ride,  a  number  of  accounts  of  remarkable  springs 
were  given  by  several. 


8o  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

But  Erin's  dulcet  tones  again  resounded,  as  he 
proclaimed, — 

"  Those  gintlemin  as  wish  can  git  something  to 
ate  here." 

They  were  now  in  "  the  barrens."  Stretching 
along  a  gentle  ridge,  in  a  singularly  orderly 
way,  presenting  a  striking  resemblance  to  a  New 
England  orchard,  were  the  "scrub"  or ''burr" 
oaks.  Among  the  trees  nearest  the  road  stood  a 
log  house,  over  the  door  of  which,  on  a  rough 
oak  board,  was  the  inscription  in  red  chalk,  the 
letters  staggering,  as  if  formed  by  a  drunken 
hand, — 

^^ Burr-oak   Cider.'''' 

"Cider!"  repeated  the  Norwegian,  as  they 
dismounted.  "  I  thought  that  w:as  manufactured 
from  apples." 

"An'  sure,"  interrupted  the  driver,  slyly  wink- 
ing at  the  doctor,  "they  make  it  here  without  the 
fruit  at  all,  at  all,  an'  it's  the  gin-i-wme,  an'  no 
mistake." 

The  plain  meal  of  corn-cake,  fried  pork,  eggs, 
and  coffee  innocent  of  sugar  or  milk,  was  de- 
spatched, and  Tom  had  quite  forgotten  about  the 
"cider  ;  "  but  on  returning  to  the  stage-coach,  the 
smell  of  the  doctor's  breath,  and  the  unnatural 
excitability  that  prevailed,  led  him  to  suspect  that 
some  "  beverage  "  stronger  than  the  poor  coffee 


BURR-OAK    CIDER.  8t 

of  the  table  had  been  patronized  while  he  was 
walking  beneath  the  oaks  —  a  suspicion  that  be- 
came knowledge,  when,  an  hour  later,  the  doc- 
tor, in  the  glow  of  his  feelings  —  perhaps  I  should 
say,  stomach —  drew  his  flask,  filled  with  "burr- 
oak  cider,"  alms  whiskey,  from  his  coat  pocket, 
and  sent  it  the  rounds,  all  partaking  except  the 
Norwegian  and  Tom.  When  restored  to  its  own- 
er, he  held  it  up  to  the  light,  shook  it,  and  look- 
ing at  its  contents  with  a  professional  air,  said,  — 

"That  is  what  I  call  one  of  God's  good  crea- 
tures ! " 

"And  yet,"  boldly  replied  Tom,  "how  many 
accidents,  losses,  quarrels,  murders,  deaths, 
what  poverty,  wretchedness,  crime  it  causes ! 
It  is  on  this  account  that  so  many  of  the  great 
and  good  stigmatize  it  as  the  worst  of  mans 
creatures." 

"O,  I  mean  rightly  used,"  answered  the  physi- 
cian, with  a  touch  of  condescension. 

"  Used  as  it  has  been  here,  for  a  common 
drink?"  inquired  the  young  critic. 

"Boy,"  he  replied,  with  doctorial  dignity,  "I 
contend  that  there  is  a  principle  in  whiskey, 
which,  as  a  tonic,  is  invaluable." 

"May  I  ask,"  politely  interposed  the  Norwe- 
gian, "in  which  of  the  drugs  employed  in  manu- 
facturing and  flavoring  the  article  you  find  that 
principle  ?  " 

6 


82  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

''Sir,'*  returned  the  whiskey  advocate,  getting 
nettled,  "need  I  state  that  I  refer  to  pure  old 
Bourbon  !  " 

"Pardon  me,  then,  for  reminding  you,"  cour- 
teously responded  the  Norwegian,  "that  one  sel- 
dom sees  old  Bourbon,  much  less  old  Bourbon 
fure.  And  surely  the  liquor  called  ^burr-oak 
cider,'  sold  at  that  wretched  loggery,  cannot  be 
of  the  kind  or  quality  you  mention." 

"Besides,"  broke  in  Tom,  "when  you  prescribe 
a  *  tonic,'  —  cinchona^  for  example,  —  you  are 
careful  about  the  size  and  frequency  of  the  dose  — 
are  you  not?  Why,  then,  take  the  whiskey 
*  tonic'  in  such  large  quantities  and  so  often? 
A  tonic  is  to  strengthen  the  body  when  weak ; 
but  those  addicted  to  the  '  Bourbon  tonic '  use  it 
when  weak  or  strong,  and  continue  it  till  it  beggars 
or  destroys  them.  It  would  be  mal-practice  to  ad- 
minister a  tonic  to  those  already  over-stimulated. 
But. suppose,  doctor,  one  should  weigh  two  hun- 
dred, his  face  and  eyes  were  red,  the  blood  too 
much  in  his  brain ;  would  not  an  intelligent  prac- 
titioner recognize  such  a  person  as  apoplectic? 
and  would  not  tonics  be  hurtful  and  dangerous  to 
him,  especially  whiskey  tonics?  Hence,  is  not, 
after  all,  your  defence  of  alcoholic  drinks,  on 
medical  grounds,  a  pleasant  little  piece  of  profes- 
sional strategy?  Do  you  not  reall}^  hold  to  them 
because  they  are  agreeable  to  the  taste  ?  " 


BURR-OAK    CIDER.  83 

"You  are  a  little  personal,"  rejoined  the  physi- 
cian, heartily  laughing  ;  "  and  I  don't  know  but 
you  are  about  right.  But  it  is  not  best  to  be  so- 
cial bigots.  An  occasional  glass  cheers,  enli- 
vens, disperses  the  blues,  leads  a  man  to  feel  at 
peace  with  all  the  world,  and  forget  care,  fatigue, 
and  sorrow.  It  promotes  good  fellowship,  arouses 
the  intellect,  and  enlarges  the  heart.  How  dry 
and  insipid  are  public  dinners  without  wine ! 
And  on  a  journey  what  introduces  strangers  so 
gracefully,  and  quickly  makes  them  acquainted  !  '* 

"  An  eloquent  eulogy  !  "  observed  the  Norwe- 
gian. "  But,  doctor,  I  have  read  of  a  custom  in 
France,  before  the  revolution,  that  adhered  more 
faithfully  to  fact. 

"  When  a  great  personage,  a  marshal  of  France, 
a  prince,  duke,  or  peer,  passed  through  a  city 
of  Burgundy  or  Champagne,  the  corporation  of 
the  city  waited  on  him,  delivered  an  address,  and 
presented  him  with  four  silver  goblets,  in  which 
were  four  different  wines.  On  the  first  goblet  he 
read  this  inscription,  monkey  wine;  on  the  second, 
lion  wine;  on  the  third,  sheef  wine;  on  the 
fourth,  swine  wine.  These  inscriptions  expressed 
the  four  descending  degrees  of  drunkenness : 
the  first,  that  which  enlivens;  the  second,  that 
which  irritates;  the  third,  that  which  stupefies; 
the  last,  that  which  brutalizes." 

The  physician,  like  one  of  Victor  Hugo's  char- 


84  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

acters,  combined,  with  admirable  art  and  in  mas- 
terly proportions,  the  thirst  of  a  guzzler  with  the 
discretion  of  a  judge,  and  had  preserved  his 
mental  equipoise  notwithstanding  the  whiskey. 
But  the  nervous  little  Hoosier  had  by  this  time 
become  unduly  "elevated,"  and  posturing  as  if 
about  to  fiddle,  sawed  away  with  one  arm  across 
the  other,  and  struck  into  a  dancing  tune. 

^"Monkey  wine,"  Tom  murmured,  nudging  the 
doctor's  elbow.     "The  ^ tonic'  is  taking  hold." 

From  imitating  the  violin ,  the  "  Ingianny  school- 
master" proceeded  to  describe  incidents  in  his 
history  which  showed  that  he  had  seen  more  of 
life  among  rowdy  Mississippi  raftsmen  than  in  the 
school-room. 

"  The  '  tonic '  is  introducing  to  us  the  raftsman," 
whispered  Tom.  ^' What  can  so  'quickly  make 
strangers  acquainted.'" 

The  Hoosier  ended  his  stories  with  a  coarse 
song. 

^"^ Swine  wine,"  exclaimed  the  Norwegian,  in 
disgust. 

Erin,  on  before,  broke  out  also  in  rude  strains, 
alternated  with  swearing  at,  and  furiously  lash- 
ing, his  better-behaved  horses. 

"The  *  tonic'  has  mounted  to  the  driver's  head," 
said  Tom. 

'^Monkey ^  lion,  and  swific  wines,"  chimed  in  his 
ally  from  Norway. 


BURR-OAK    CIDER.  85 

But  the  deepening  ravines  made  their  way  un- 
comfortably rough,  the  wheels  now  sinking  into 
heavy  ruts,  anon  surmounting  some  jagged  rise 
of  ground,  while  the  driving  was  reckless  in  the 
extreme.     Tom  shouted  to  the  driver,  — 

"  Be  careful,  or  you'll  turn  us  over !  " 

"O,  be  aisy,  me  by,"  he  roared  in  return, 
whipping  the  horses  anew.  "Dennis  O'Brien's 
been  acrass  the  prairies  before  to-day.  Get  ape, 
ye  bastes  !  " 

A  moment  more,  and  the  stage  canted  threat- 
eningly, righted,  then  came  down,  Tom's  side, 
with  a  crash,  his  face  resting  on  a  sharp  object 
protruding  through  the  intervening  leather.  He 
was  too  closely  pinioned  by  the  passengers  over 
him  to  move,  and  lay  helpless,  expecting  each 
instant  the  horses  to  run  and  drag  him  thus. 
But  the  animals,  becoming  disengaged  from  the 
w hippie-trees  as  the  coach  went  over,  although 
spurred  on  to  the  moment  of  the  casualty  by  the 
drunken  Jehu,  waited  quietly  by  for  orders,  like 
good  temperance  beasts,  who  had  taken  no 
'  tonic' 

When  the  door  of  their  prison-house  was 
opened,  the  passengers  emerged,  a  sadl}^  jolted 
and  bruised  set,  happily,  however,  without  seri- 
ous injury,  only  to  the  stage,  which  v»as  pretty 
well  "smashed,"  obliging  them  to  "foot  it"  to 
their  destination,  a  distance  of  two  miles.     The 


86  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Norwegian  and  Tom,  however,  enlivened  the 
walk  by  reminding  the  doctor  that  it  was  "one 
of  God's  good  creatures  "  that,  turning  the  driver's 
brain,  upset  the  stage. 

"  Admirable  *  tonic ' !  powerful  *  good  crea- 
ture'!  "  ejaculated  the  Norwegian.  "By  all 
means,  doctor,  when  again  we  travel  together, 
bring  some  burr-oak  cider  aboard  ;  it  helps  so  on 
a  journey  !  " 

"  How  true  the  old  proverb,"  suggested  Tom, 
*Wine  is  a  mocker;  strong  drink  is  raging; 
whosoever  is  deceived  thereby  is   not   wise.'" 

"Young  man,"  said  the  doctor,  as  they  entered 
the  little  frontier  village,  "to  what  part  of  the  east 
do  you  belong,  did  you  say  ?  " 

"No  part,"  frankly  answered  Tom.  "I  was 
brought  up  in  a  log  cabin  on  the  prairies,  but 
have  been  east  studying." 

"Medicine?" 

"  In  part,  but  mainly  for  the  ministry.* 

"So  you  were  a  boy-pioneer?" 

"I  was." 

"  And  now  you  propose  pioneering  it  in  religion 
and  reform?  Let  me  tell  you  that  you  will  find 
it  a  mighty  sight  harder  battling  vice  and  sin  than 
fighting  poverty  and  Indians.  But  you've  the 
pluck  for  it.     I  wish  you  success.     Good  by." 

As  Tom  left,  the  doctor  muttered,  — 

''Well,  if //6''5  a  sample  of  what  pioneering  it  does 


BURR-OAK    CIDER.  87 

for  body  and  mind,  pity  that  there  were  not  fewer 
dwelHngs  of  luxury,  and  more  cabins  !  But  how 
that  youngster  walked  into  my  arguments  !  Fact 
is,  I  had  a  sorry  cause  to  defend.  Drinking  is 
poor  business." 

"  Mr.  Jones,"  said  the  Hoosier,  drawing  him 
mysteriously  aside,  "  if  I  should  light  on  your 
neighborhood,  and  get  a  school  there,  perhaps 
you'd  help  m.e  out,  if  I  got  in  a  hard  spot.  Now, 
Vithmetic  isn't  a  mite  nat'ral  to  me.  You  see  I've 
had  no  great  chance  for  schoolin'.  You'd  give 
an  old  acquaintance  a  lift  on  the  diffikilt  sums,  J 
s'pose  ?  " 

But  the  Hibernian  driver  saved  Tom  the  trouble 
of  replying,  by  asking,  in  a  business-like  way, 
"  the  gintlemin  "  to  be  sure  and  ride  with  him  on 
their  return,  or  not  in  the  opposition  line. 

"And  get  upset  again?  "  suggested  Tom. 

*'  An'  sure  an'  the  accidint  wud  niver  have  oc- 
curred at  all,  at  all,  if  it  hadn't  been  fur  the  —  " 

"Whiskey,"  added  Tom. 

"Faix,  an'  yer  honor's  right  there,"  answered 
Erin. 

Tom  scanned  the  countenance  of  the  young 
Irishman.  He  had  a  clear  blue  eye,  an  interest- 
ing, intelligent  face,  and  his  brown  hair  curled  in 
beautiful,  clustering  ringlets  over  a  fair,  open 
brow. 

"What  a  pity,"  observed  Tom,  "that  a  young 


88  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

man  of  your  smartness  should  permit  his  head  to 
be  turned  by  the  vile  stuff!  You'll  marry  one  of 
these  days,  and  be,  perhaps,  a  drunken  sot  of  a 
husband,  and  break  your  wife's  heart,  if  you  get 
the  appetite  fastened  on  you.  Yet  you  might  be 
a  good  and  useful  member  of  society." 

"An',  indade,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  warm-heart- 
ed Celt,  touched  by  the  frankness  and  sincerity 
of  Tom's  manner,  "it's  married  I  am  now ;  "  and 
he  dashed  oft'  a  tear.  "  An'  wut  wud  me  angil 
uv  a  wife  say  had  she  seen  me  droonk  to-day  ?  " 

"  Where'is  she?  "  asked  Tom,  much  interested. 

"  She's  in  the  ould  country,  sir ;  an'  I'm  get- 
ting the  dollars  together  to  bring  her  over — her 
an'  the  babe." 

"Steer  clear  of  the  whiskey,  then,"  said  Tom, 
"if  you  wish  to  get  them  here  soon,  and  make 
them  happy  after  they  arrive." 

"All  the  angils  bless  yez,  sir!  The  reverend 
clargy  couldn't  spake  betther  nor  yez.  An'  Den- 
nis O'Brien  is  no  fool  to  kape  ter  the  drink  that's 
harrmed  many  an'  many  a  wiser  an'  a  betther 
than  he.  An'  sure  it's  not  to  the  credit  of  a  doc- 
thor  ter  be  a  recommindin'  it  to  the  likes  o'  me." 


tom's  ride  continued.  89 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

TOM's    ride    continued.  THE    CHIEF's    DAUGH- 
TER.  SINGULAR   ADVENTURE. 

Forty  miles  north-east  of  the  landing,  where 
Tom  parted  from  the  Willards,  was  a  wide  belt 
of  woods,  through  w^hich,  down  in  its  dim  depths, 
ran  a  foaming  river.  The  irregular  limestone 
bluffs,  forming  its  banks,  were  wdld  and  pictu- 
resque in  the  extreme.  Few,  save  the  Indian, 
and  the  hunter,  and  trapper,  ever  entered  these 
labyrinths. 

On  the  stream,  farther  down,  where  the  woods 
ended  in  rolling  prairie,  a  young  town  had  started, 
and,  using  the  water  power,  furnished  lumber  to 
villages  less  favored ;  for  the  settlers  deem.ed 
themselves  fortunate,  if,  by  going  a  score  of 
miles,  they  could  procure  a  load  of  boards,  to  be 
used  in  building  their  cabins. 

At  this  place  the  stage  deposited  Tom  —  the 
route  continuing  no  farther.  The  young  Scotch- 
American  also  stopped  there,  who,  on  learning 
Tom's  destination,  stated  that  his  father's  cabin 
was  twelve  miles  distant  on  Tom's  path,  and,  as 


9©  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

he  would  return  next  day  with  horse  and  wagon, 
offered  to  take  Tom  and  his  trunk  along  for  com- 
pany. 

"I  shall  get  here  by  two  in  the  afternoon,  to- 
Tiorrow,"  he  said. 

Next  morning,  to  "&tretch  his  limbs,"  Tom 
started  alone,  on  a  short  exploring  walk  up  the 
river,  amusing  himself  on  the  way  gathering  bo- 
tanical and  entomological  specimens,  and  noting 
the  varieties  of  birds  that  flitted  on  the  wing,  or 
floated  on  the  water. 

Absorbed  in  thoughts  of  the  dear  ones  he  was 
going  to  visit,  and  in  what  he  saw,  he  had  gone 
some  distance  into  the  woods,  when,  coming  to  a 
widening  of  the  trail,  he  saw,  quietly  preceding 
him,  an  Indian  girl,  of  from  sixteen  to  eighteen 
years  of  age.  She  was  walking  slowly,  appar- 
ently unaware  that  any  one  was  near.  Rumors 
of  Indian  hostilities  were  afloat,  and  this  evidence 
that  he  was  in  the  vicinity  of  an  Indian  encamp- 
ment was  anything  but  welcome. 

His  first  impulse  was  to  turn  about,  and  noise- 
lessly retrace  his  steps.  A  second  thought  showed 
the  folly  of  this,  for  he  had  been  shouting  to 
awaken  the  echoes,  and  singing,  to  express  his 
enjoj^ment,  and  crashing  the  dr}^  twigs,  up  to  the 
very  instant  of  the  appearance  of  the  tawny 
maiden  ;  so,  despite  her  seeming  ignorance  of 
his  presence,  he  felt  assured  she  was  aware  of  it. 


THE    CHIEFS    DAUGHTER.  pi 

Making,  therefore,  the  best  of  his  uncomforta- 
ble situation,  he  hurried  to  overtake  the  stranger. 
Approaching,  he  was  struck  with  her  exceeding 
beauty,  while  the  ornaments  upon  her  person 
proclaimed  her  a  chief's  daughter. 

Her  form  was  symmetry  itself;  her  jet  black 
hair,  elaborately  dressed  and  braided,  was  long, 
silken,  and  glossy ;  her  carriage  was  graceful 
and  dignified  ;  while  row  after  row  of  many-hued 
beads  encircled  her  neck  and  shoulders,  and  em- 
broidered her  moccasons.  And  such  face  and 
eyes  !  the  former,  delicately  tinged,  perfectly  reg- 
ular, interesting  ;  the  latter,  soft,  lustrous,  shaded 
by  long,  dark  lashes. 

In  his  boyhood,  Tom  had  read,  in  some  high- 
wrought  romance  he  chanced  to  meet,  an  ideal 
sketch  of  an  Indian  maid  ;  this  prodigy  of  nature 
fully  realized  that  glowing  portraiture. 

Scarcely,  however,  had  he  reached  her  side, 
when  a  short,  dry  cough,  the  insidious  "  coffin 
cough,"  so  often  heard  in  civilized  dwellings,  fell 
on  his  ear. 

"Indian  girl  sick?"  he  inquired,  awkwardly 
striving  to  make  himself  understood. 

No  answer  was  returned,  nor  did  the  move- 
ment of  a  muscle  of  the  features,  or  a  turn  of 
the  head,  give  token  that  she  saw  or  heard  him. 
Again  she  involuntarily  coughed. 

Taking  out  a  well-stocked  medicine  case,  he 


92  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

drew  forth  a  vial,  and,  displaying  it  to  view, 
said,  — 

"  Indian  girl  sick ;  medicine,  perhaps,  make 
well ! " 

Without  a  responsive  glance  or  word,  a  little 
yellow  hand  was  stretched  out,  the  slender  fingers 
glistening  with  rings.  Pouring  some  medicated 
globules  into  the  open  palm,  she  gravely  swal- 
lowed them,  and  continued  her  silent  walk. 
Soon  the  cough  softened  a  little,  the  irritation  of 
the  respiratory  organs  was  soothed,  and  feeling 
that,  possibly,  on  her  favor  his  very  life  might 
depend,  he  sought,  fruitlessly,  to  engage  her  in 
conversation. 

Suddenly,  however,  she  disappeared  down  the 
side  of  the  bluflf.  A  profound  silence,  broken 
only  by  the  rush  of  the  stream,  and  twitter  of 
birds,  succeeded,  yet  that  ambushed  eyes  were 
watching  every  motion  he  could  not  doubt. 

Retracing  his  way  with  assumed  carelessness, 
he  had  not  gone  far,  when  from  the  thickets 
leaped  a  band  of  yelling  savages,  naked  to  the 
waist,  their  hair  flowing  in  wild  disorder  over 
their  brawny  shoulders.  It  was  a  startling  onset ; 
but,  understanding  Indian  character  too  well  to 
manifest  fear,  he  scrutinized  his  captors  with  a 
coolness  that  astonished  himself. 

"  Money  !  money  !  "  they  shouted  in  rude  Eng- 
lish, thrusting  their  grimy  paws  from  every  side 
into  his  face. 


SINGULAR   ADVENTURE.  93 

"No  money  ! "  he  replied,  shaking  his  head. 

Dancing,  grinning,  jeering,  for  a  few  exciting 
moments,  they  at  length  vanished  in  the  woods. 

Feeling  uneasy,  and  uncertain  as  to  what  the 
discovery  he  had  made  might  forebode,  he  thought 
he  would  see  if  he  could  hnd  their  encampment. 
So,  pushing  his  way  through  the  bushes,  and 
down  the  declivity,  he  discovered,  hidden  under 
the  overhanging  ledge,  several  Indian  tents. 

Before  one,  tightly  stretched  from  two  stakes 
driven  into  the  ground,  was  a  deer's  hide,  the 
pelt  of  which  an  old  hag  was  rubbing  soft  and 
smooth  with  a  sharp-edged  stone — 3.  slow  and 
laborious  process. 

Just  shooting  into  view  from  the  other  side  of 
the  river,  and  propelled  by  a  squaw,  was  a  canoe, 
laden  with  the  limbs  of  trees  for  the  fire  ;  while 
in  a  lodge  squatted  the  lazy  "lords  of  the  soil," 
playing  games  of  chance,  the  paint  on  their  faces 
showing  that,  if  not  on  the  war-path,  they  per- 
haps intended  mischief  to  somebody. 

Feeling  that  in  view  of  the  Indians  having  re- 
centl}'  left  him  unmolested,  he  might  enter  the 
camp  without  special  danger,  and  as  he  wished, 
if  possible,  to  ascertain  their  designs,  he  at  once 
descended  the  ledge,  and  entered  the  tent.  Seat- 
ing himself,  he  watched  their  play.  No  notice 
was  taken  of  him.  One  of  the  players,  whose 
cruel  leer,  and  the  contortions  of  whose   supple 


94  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

body,  made  him  think  of  a  human  snake,  struck 
into  a  savage  song,  swaying  back  and  forth  to 
keep  time. 

Tom  found  it  difficult  to  conceal  his  apprehen- 
sions, and  the  better  to  do  so,  in  a  frank,  "  at 
home "  manner,  he  had  just  taken  his  turn  in 
drinking  from  the  dubious-looking  pail  of  water 
that  stood  near,  when  the  chief  appeared,  accom- 
panied by  his  daughter. 

"Medicine  for  pappoose  !  "  he  said. 

"Yes,"  Tom  gladly  repHed,  and,  carefully 
taking  out  the  powder,  showed  him  what  was  a 
dose,  making  him  comprehend  that  the  remedy 
was  to  be  taken  three  times  daily,  saying,  — 

"  Make  pappoose  better  !  " 

"Good,  good,"  answered  the  Indian,  adding, 
"  white  man,  go  home  bimeby,  quick  !  Indian 
no  hurtee  him." 

Taking  the  hint,  Tom  departed,  reaching  the 
little  settlement,  thankful  at  his  easy  escape. 
Did  the  gratitude  of  the  Indian  maid,  operating 
through  the  love  of  the  old  chief  for  his  strangely 
beautiful  child,  give  him  a  safe  return?  Long 
^id  he   ponder  his  strange  adventure. 

It  is  an  old  adage,  "All  knowledge  will  come 
into  use  at  some  time."  Tom's  splendid  constitu- 
tion, thanks  to  the  tug  and  toil  of  his  varied  ex- 
periences as  a  squatter's  son,  permitted  him  to 
study  more    and  faster  in   a  day  than  if  he   had 


SINGULAR    ADVENTURE. 


95 


bec'i  tenderly  reared.  Long  deprivation  of  school 
privileges  had  also  made  him  brain -hungry.  As 
an  inmate  of  an  eminent  physician's  family,  he 
had  a  taste  awakened  for  anatomy,  physiology, 
and  the  knowledge  of  diseases  and  their  treat- 
ment. 

"  Christ  was  physician  of  both  soul  and  body ; 
why  should  not  I  be  ?  "  he  argued.  Little  did  he 
think,  however,  as  he  waded  through  Diagnosis 
and  the  Materia  Medica,  and  rode  and  talked  with 
the  knowledge-imparting  doctor,  that  the  first  use 
he  would  have  for  the  medicine  case  the  physi- 
cian had  presented  him  at  parting,  would  be  to 
relieve  an  Indian  girl,  and  thereb}^,  perhaps,  save 
his  own  life. 

He  was  aware  that  a  frontier  missionary  must 
needs  prescribe  for  the  sick,  or  stand  idly  by  and 
see  them  suffer ;  and  from  benevolent  considera- 
tions he  had  informed  himself  in  medicine.  He 
had  begun  to  receive  the  reward,  sure  to  accrue, 
sooner  or  later,  to  those  who  seek  the  good  of 
others. 


96  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"hog's   back." THE    SOLITARY    HORSEMAN. 

The  capacious  immigrant  wagon  was  packed 
over  night,  Mrs.  Willard'e,  aunt  Esther's,  and 
the  boys'  trunks  put  in  first,  side  by  side,  back  of 
the  second  seat ;  for  there  were  two  seats  —  the 
driver's,  then  one  behind  that.  On  the  trunks 
mattresses  were  laid  to  recHne  on,  if  necessary, 
while  riding,  and  to  sleep  on  at  night. 

Against  the  side  of  the  canvas-top,  hung  in 
straps,  handy  for  service,  was  Ferdinand's  gun, 
—  a  Christmas  present,  —  his  name  engraved  on 
a  brass  plate  screwed  into  the  breech.  Then 
came  two  sharp  axes,  a  hammer,  hatchet,  and  a 
small  handsaw,  a  knife  in  a  leather  sheath,  and  a 
leather  bag  containing  an  assortment  of  nails  of 
different  sizes.  These  articles  last  enumerated 
were  part  of  the  original  outfit  of  the  wagon. 

Packed  under  the  seats  were  cooking  utensils, 
bags  of  grain  for  the  horses,  a  sack  of  flour,  and 
"  bix  box,  little  box,  bandbox  and  bundle,"  be- 
longing to  the  women.  Suspended  at  the  back 
of  the  vehicle  were  two  water-pails. 


HOG'S    BACK.  97 

The  humble  hamlet  at  which  the  Willards  were 
tarrying,  called  a  landing  because  steamers,  on 
their  trips  up  and  down  the  river,  touched  there, 
was  located  in  a  gap  in  the  limestone  bluffs  ris- 
ing from  the  river's  bank.  Like  a  mighty  wall 
these  huge  bluffs  extended  along  the  shore,  with 
here  and  there  an  opening,  as  if  a  giant  hand  had 
cut  through  to  facilitate  communication  between 
the  commerce  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  inland 
region. 

Rising  on  either  hand,  from  the  little  port 
towered  precipitous  ledges,  the  opening  narrow- 
ing as  you  left  the  water,  —  something  as  if  you 
had  started  from  the  base  of  an  irregularly  acute 
angle,  —  and  lessened  in  depth  till,  continuing  to 
ascend,  you  emerge  from  the  ravine,  and  sland 
on  a  level  with  the  heights  of  the  bluffs. 

It  was  morning  twilight  when  the  Willards 
were  going  up  the  ravine.  Ferdinand,  by  right 
of  seniority,  elected  himself  driver,  and  holding 
the  reins  in  his  left  hand,  —  he  said  that  was  the 
way  experienced  horsemen  did,  —  and  a  massive 
whip  in  his  right,  walked  with  an  authoritative 
air  beside  the  team,  to  favor  the  horses.  Frankie 
and  the  feminines  rode,  and  Georgie  ran  eagerly 
on  before,  turning  every  few  minutes  to  tell  Fer- 
dinand which  was  the  way, — wholly  "  a  work 
of  supererogation,"  as  the  theologians  crack  their 
jawing  jaws  to  say. 
7 


98  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

The  sun  showed  his  round,  red  face — blush- 
ing to  find  himself  so  late — just  as  the  white- 
topped  wagon  gained  the  summit. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Georgie,  tossing  his  cap  high 
up  in  the  air ;  "  why,  mother,  did  you  ever  see 
anything  so  splendid  !  " 

Ferdinand  bellowed  "  whoa,"  in  a  gruff,  com- 
manding tone  to  the  horses,  and  his  mother  and 
aunt,  accepting  his  invitation,  got  out  to  survey 
the  scene. 

What  a  sight  met  their  gaze  !  For  miles  and 
miles  the  great  river  wound  along  —  a  stream 
of  molten  gold,  dotted  with  green  islets,  and 
spotted  by  steamers  looking  like  monster  water- 
birds. 

"  Wonderful !  wonderful !  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Willard.     But  soon  she  began  to  weep. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cheered  Georgie  again  ;  "  how 
cool  and  beautiful  it  is  here  !  " 

But  Frankie,  who  had  been  viewing  the  river 
from  the  driver's  seat,  his   large,  old-young  fac*^ 
peering    solemnly  around   the   wagon  side,  dis- 
pleased   at  George's    boisterousness,  frowningH 
piped, — 

"  Stop  your  noise,  George  ! "  adding,  authori- 
tatively, "  Ferdinand,  it's  time  we  were  start- 
ing." 

At  which  the  latter,  as  if  accustomed  to  obey 
the  dwarf,  politely  assisting  his  mother  and  aunt 


HOGS    BACK. 


99 


into  the  wagon,  he  and  Georgie  got  in  too,  and 
the  steeds  were  once  more  in  motion. 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  which  way  to  go," 
said  Ferdinand,  suddenly  reining  in  the  horses, 
and  looking  around  in  dismay.  I  expected  it 
would  be  smooth  prairie.  I  am  afraid  we  shall 
tip  over." 

"  The  prospect  is  not  very  encouraging,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Willard,  leaning  on  his  shoulder  the 
better  to  see.  "We  must  have  mistaken  the 
path." 

The  ground  was  broken  into  sharp  ridges,  ex- 
tending outwards  in  irregularly  parallel  lines,  the 
ridge  they  were  upon  being  much  the  highest, 
and  apparently  too  narrow  to  pass  along  in 
safety. 

"  Why  don't  you  examine  the  paper  Mr.  Jones 
gave  you  for  a  guide?"  asked  Frankie,  impa- 
tiently. 

Ferdinand  fumbled  first  in  one  pocket,  then  in 
another,  for  the  chart.     It  was  not  there  I 

"  What  5^flr//  we  do?"  exclaimed  his  mother. 
"  We  cannot  get  on  without  that  chart." 

Ferdinand  took  everything  from  his  pockets, 
and  turned  the  latter  inside  out.  An  amusing 
medley  of  articles  of  all  colors,  kinds,  shape,  and 
uses  came  to  light,  but  not  Tom's  sketch  for  their 
route. 

The  little  Hunchback's  great  sharp  eyes  were 


lOO  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

fixed  reprovingly  on  his  older  brother's  face  dur- 
ing the  fruitless  search. 

"  I  knew  you'd  lose  the  paper ! "  he  piped. 
"  You'd  lose  your  head  if  it  wasn't  fastened 
on  !  " 

"I'll  run  back  to  the  tavern,  and  see  if  it's 
there,"  said  Georgie. 

"  You  keep  still !  "  commanded  the  Hunchback. 
''Drive  on,  Ferdinand." 

"  Drive  where?"  retorted  the  latter. 

"  I  knew  you'd  forget,"  said  the  dwarf.  "  Didn't 
Mr.  Jones  say  that  the  land  would  be  in  ridges 
up  here,  and  that  in  leaving  the  ravine  by  the 
main  —  the  travelled  path  —  we  would  find  our- 
selves on  the  highest  ridge,  called,  from  its  shape 
and  position,  ^  Hog's  Back'?  and  that  we  must 
ride  straight  ahead  two  miles  on  it?"  Go  'long 
now  —  not  keep  us  waiting  all  day  !  " 

Ferdinand  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  generally 
minding  the  dwarf,  he  had  such  a  manner,  and 
was  so  knowing ;  so  he  doubtingly  chirruped  to 
the  horses. 

"  Steady  !  steady  !  "  said  the  dwarf;  "  'twon't 
answer  to  be  careless." 

The  caution  was  timely ;  for  the  ridge,  rising 
somewhat  like  the  spine  of  the  animal  for  which 
it  was  named,  was  scarcely  wider  than  the  wagon, 
and  steep  and  sloping. 

But  our  immigrants  soon  mastered  their  appre- 


hog's  back.  ioj 

hensions,  and  journeyed  over  tii«i  J  diiJeier.  roa^,' 
pleasantly  chatting.  ,'i 

"Only  think,'*  said  Georgie,,'V;^wq  J-wpp^J 
three  boys,  two  horses,  and  a  big  wagon,  all  on 
a  hog's  back.     I  should  think  he'd  squeal !  " 

"  And  the  hog  two  miles  long  from  snout  to 
stern,"  added  Ferdinand. 

"  He  hasn't  a  bristle,  though  !  *' 

*'  The  grass  is  his  bristles." 

"  Steady,  I  tell  you  !  "  interrupted  the  dwarf. 

Silence  fell  on  the  family,  for  the  hog  had  his 
back  pretty  well  up  at  this  point  —  in  resentment, 
perchance,  to  the  lads'  personalities.  Shortly, 
however,  the  ridge  slightly  widened,  —  more 
pork,  and  less  bone, — then  they  began  to  de- 
scend ;  and  quickly  there  lay,  outspread  before 
their  eyes,  an  immense  expanse  of  land,  as  even 
to  the  sight  as  if  art  had  made  it  so. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  burst  from  Georgie's  lips  ;  and  Fer- 
dinand stopped  the  span,  and  the  women  bent 
forward  to  feast  on  the  sight. 

"  Beautiful !  charming  I  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Wil- 
lard,  enthusiastically. 

"Sweet  fields  arrayed  in  living  green,"  quoted 
entranced  aunt  Esther,  with  an  accent  that  car- 
ried the  listener  to  a  landscape  eye  of  mortal  hath 
not  seen. 

"  What  course  shall  I  take  now  ?  "  asked  Fer- 
dinand —  an  inquiry  that  transferred  our  travel- 


I02  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

krs  fr.ani  vj^klnxs  of  reverie  back  to  matters  of  a 
praQtifAj.  nature. 

"But  Who.  ;w  aif  {0  decide  ?  Before  them  stretched 
an  illimitable  meadow,  destitute  of  house,  human 
resident,  or  road.  Is  it  strange  that,  bewildered, 
there  was  no  reply? 

The  dwarf,  however,  was  cool. 

"  I  thought  you'd  forget,"  he  reiterated,  in  thin, 
querulous  tones.  '*  At  the  termination  of  Hog 
Back  Ridge  lies  Looking  Glass  Prairie,"  he  re- 
peated, word  for  word  from  Tom's  directions. 

"Wonder  why  it's  called  so?"  asked  Georgie, 
looking  relieved. 

"  Because,"  explained  the  dwarf,  testily,  "  a 
looking-glass  is  smooth.   Now  hold  your  tongue  !" 

Then  he  continued,  — 

"  Three  wagon  tracks ;  take  the  middle  one. 
Here  it  is,"  pointing  with  his  shrivelled  fore  finger. 
"  Start  on  !  " 

"  Isn't  it  jolly  I "  cried  irrepressible  Georgie, 
"  from  off  a  hog's  back,  two  miles  long,  we  go 
down  smash —  horses,  wagon,  and  all  —  on  a  look- 
ing glass  large  enough  to  hang  up  on  the  sky. 
The  hog  didn't  move  nor  grunt,  and  the  mirror 
don't  crack.     I  guess  the  glass  must  be  thick." 

And  now  that  it  was  level,  Ferdinand  treated 
the  travellers  to  a  trot.  This  suited  Georgie. 
He  boiled  over  with  mirth  and  fun.  Ferdinand, 
the  driver,  behaved  with  the  dignity  be£tting  hi^ 


I03 

responsible  trust.  At  his  side  was  the  dwarfed 
Htinchback,  grave,  reflective,  curt. 

But  Georgie  was  nowhere  long  at  a  time. 
Boy-like,  he  tried  all  attitudes,  places,  posts,  and 
positions  —  racing  by  the  horses,  hanging  on 
with  the  buckets,  scrambling  over  aunt  Esther 
to  lie  upon  the  beds,  jerking  the  lines  when 
Ferdinand  was  off  his  guard,  starting  up  the 
steeds,  abstracting  goodies  from  his  mother's  reti- 
cule. 

Indeed,  the  novelty  of  their  situation  wrought 
wonders  in  withdrawing  the  thoughts  of  the  fam- 
ily —  as  Tom  had  foreseen  —  from  their  great 
sorrow . 

Tom  was  a  -practical  philanthropist.  Doubt- 
less he  had  read  in  a  certain  old  Book  these 
words  :  "  Love  not  in  word,  neither  in  tongue,  but 
in  deed  and  in  truth." 

Many  devout  persons  never  saw  that  passage. 
Such  impart  excellent  counsel  to  the  starving, 
and  recite  Scripture  to  them,  and  then  leave  them 
to  their  fate  —  like  a  wealthy  lady  I  knew,  who 
seeing  a  barefooted  child  of  poverty  bitterly  weep- 
ing over  a  pitcher  she  had  broken,  for  which  ac- 
cident she  expected  a  beating  on  reaching  her 
miserable  home,  the  lady,  in  the  excess  of  her 
goodness,  stopped,  and  using  the  child's  misfor- 
tune for  an  illustration,  addressed  heron  the  uncer- 
tainties and  disappointments  of  earth,  and  then 


I04  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

presented  the  expectant  girl  with  —  a  few  pen- 
nies to  buy  a  new  pitcher?     No  ;  a  tract. 

When  the  saint  in  silks  and  diamonds  glanced 
back  at  the  recipient  of  her  charity,  what  was 
her  pious  horror  to  see  that  printed  page  in  the 
mud ! 

We  commend  to  these  cheap  philanthropists 
the  story  of  the  kind-hearted  old  gentleman  in 
Maine,  who,  riding  along  in  his  carriage  one  hot 
day  in  July,  saw  a  toad  lying  in  the  road,  gasping 
with  the  heat.  In  the  kindness  of  his  soul,  the 
elderly  man  (who  was  very  fleshy)  climbed 
down,  moved  the  poor  melting  toad  mto  the  shade 
of  his  carriage^  then  complacently  climbed  up 
again,  and  drove  on. 

"  Mother,"  sputtered  the  Hunchback,  "  hadn't 
George  better  wait  till  the  rest  eat?  He's  helping 
himself  to  the  doughnuts." 

"  When  are  we  going  to  eat?"  asked  Georgie, 
the  words  working  their  way  out  with  much  diffi- 
culty, becau.se  of  the  cramming. 

"  We  shall  reach  the  halting-place  pretty 
soon,"  answered  the  dwarf,  "  and  then  mother  will 
get  breakfast." 

"There's  the  spring,"  said  little  Hunchback, 
breaking  a  marvellously  long  interval  of  silence. 
"  We'll  stop  there." 

It  was  in  a  gentle  ravine ;  for,  level  as  the 
prairie  appeared   at  the  outset,  it  had  its  depres- 


I05 

sions,  as  is  the  case  with  many  persons  who  seem 
outwardly  to  be  perfectly  happy.  This,  how- 
ever, was  the  first  notable  irregularity  of  the 
ground  with  which  they  had  met  since  bidding 
adieu  to  the  Hog's  Back ;  and  when  Georgie  saw 
it,  he  clapped  his  hands, 'saying,  — 

"  Mother,  the  '  looking-glass  '  is  cracked,  after 
all !  "  a  misfortune  that  did  not  seem  to  lessen  its 
value  to  the  hungry  immigrants,  if  we  may  judge 
by  the  interest  they  took  in  its  utility  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion. 

Ferdinand,  with  George's  lively  aid,  unhitched 
the  horses,  as  Tom  had  advised,  to  rest  them,  and 
permit  them  to  graze.  "  They  are  accustomed  to 
it,"  said  Tom,  "  and  will  not  stray  away."  But 
one  of  the  steeds  made  preparations  to  roll  in  the 
grass. 

"He'll  break  his  harness  all  in  pieces,"  cried 
aunt  Esther ;  and  Georgie,  glad  of  an  excuse  for 
"  driving  "  the  horse  in  some  way,  started  him  up, 
and  began  to  remove  the  harness.  Both  horses 
were  then  relieved  of  the  hard,  heavy  leather  — 
their  working  dress  ;  and  much  did  they  seem  to 
appreciate  their  freedom.  And  they  rolled  and 
kicked  to  their  hearts'  content. 

Meanwhile,  the  immigrants  had  seated  them- 
selves on  the  soft  turf,  convenient  to  the  spring. 
Mrs.  Willard,  having  spread  a  clean  white  cloth, 
on  which  were  deposited  sandwiches,  made  of 


I06  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

two  slices  of  bread  with  ham  between,  a  paper 
of  cakes,  and  another  of  doughnuts.  Then  on 
a  piece  of  newspaper  she  put  some  sHces  of 
cheese. 

"There  are  no  plates,  knives  and  forks,  or 
spoons  on  our  table,"  said  she  to  the  group  ;  "  but 
it  is  an  old  saying,  and  I  dare  say  a  true  one, 
that  fingers  were  made  before  forks." 

''I  declare,"  said  Georgie,  "I  never  ate  any- 
thing so  nice  before.  Did  you  fry  these  dough- 
nuts, auntie?" 

"  They  are  from  the  same  cooking  that  you  dis- 
liked at  the  landing.  It's  the  good  air  that  makes 
the  difference." 

Yes,  the  pure,  bracing,  prairie  air,  how  appe- 
tizing ! 

"  I'm  fairly  ashamed  of  myself,"  remarked  Fer- 
dinand, who  prided  himself  on  gentility  in  eating. 
"  I'm  getting  to  be  a  regular  glutton." 

And  if  certain  young  ladies  east, — don't  be 
alarmed ;  we  shall  not  mention  names,  —  who 
went  into  ecstasies  over  his  foppish  airs,  had  seen 
him  suck  the  grease  from  his  finger-tips,  using 
his  "  handsome  lips"  for  a  napkin,  after  finishing 
his  fifth  sandwich,  they  would  have  exclaimed, 
horror-struck,  "  How  vulgar  !  "  and  straightway 
composed  their  shattered  nerves  by  a  delicate 
lunch  of  pickled  limes,  slate  pencils,  terra  alba 
candy,  mince  pie,  and  ice-cream. 


THE    SOLITARY    HORSEMAN.  I07 

An  hour  fled  swift-winged. 

"Come,"  said  little  Hunchy,  "it's  time  to  be 
stirring." 

Ferdinand  and  Georgie  went  to  catch  the 
horses.  But  the  animals,  having  little  wish  to 
forsake  the  grass  and  freedom  for  fasting  and 
toil,  refused  to  be  captured. 

"Don't  those  boys  know  anything?"  muttered 
the  Hunchback.     "  Mother,  call  Georgie  !  " 

"  G-e-o-r-g-i-e  !  G-e-o-r-g-i-e  !  "  screamed  Mrs. 
Willard,  in  ear-piercing  treble. 

"You  needn't  call  so  loud,"  said  Hunchback; 
"  you  could  be  heard  for  miles  in  this  clear  prairie 
air.     Don't  you  see?     That  man  heard  you  !  " 

A  long  distance  off*,  distinctly  outlined  against 
the  sky,  was  a  horseman.  At  Mrs.  Willard's 
call,  he  turned  his  horse  about,  and  was  now 
coming  towards  them. 

"Make  haste,"  said  little  Hunchback  to 
Georgie  ;  "  take  one  of  the  pails  from  the  back  of 
the  wagon,  put  a  few  oats  in  it,  and  tell  Ferdi- 
nand to  toll  the  horses  here  as  fast  as  he  can." 

Ferdinand  coaxingly  approached  the  refractory 
steeds,  shaking  the  pail  so  that  they  might  hear 
the  grain  rattle.  Often  had  they  been  fed  from 
that  vessel,  and,  with  a  neigh,  they  came  trotting 
after  Ferdinand,  as  he  retreated  towards  the  ve- 
hicle. 

"Take    off  the   other   pail    now,"   said    little 


ro8  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

Hunchy,  "  and  put  oats  in  that,  and  let  botlr 
horses  have  some ;  for  if  you  deceive  them  they 
won't  come  next  time." 

And  while  the  horses  were  eating,  and  the 
boys  were  harnessing  them,  the  horseman  drew 
slowly  near.  The  beast  he  rode  was  an  unu- 
sually fine  one,  but  the  man  rode  as  if  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  saddle.  He  was  a  heavily-built 
man,  with  a  dark,  bad  eye,  but  an  insinuating 
manner. 

"  Anything  to  pay?  Thought  I  heard  a  woman 
scream?  "  said  he,  reining  up  near  the  boys. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Ferdinand,  frankly,  "moth- 
er was  calling  Georgie." 

"  Ah,"  he  ejaculated,  coolly  surveying  the 
party;  "  yer  ain't  journeying  alone  with  these 
youngsters,  marm?"  addressing  Mrs.  Willard. 
"  Where's  your  man  ?  " 

"  Father,  and  the  other  gentlemen,  are  just  be- 
hind," interposed  little  Hunchback,  his  great, 
grave  eyes  fixed  ominously  on  the  comer.  "  We 
don't  need  your  help." 

The  stranger  looked  the  dwarf  curiously  over, 
the  latter  returning  the  scrutiny  with  a  boldness 
and  audacity  oddly  comporting  with  his  diminu- 
tive stature.  But  the  long,  black  eyebrows 
seemed  to  deepen  in  color,  the  forehead  grew 
dark  and  threatening,  his  whole  bearing  hostile 
and  defiant. 


THE    SOLITARY   HORSEMAN.  IO9 

"What  are  you?  a  human  porcupine?"  asked 
the  traveller,  riding  contemptuously  round  little 
Hunchy. 

The  dwarf  made  no  repl}^  but  kept  hie  mag- 
netic eyes  fastened  on  the  man. 

"  I  can't  make  out  what  you  are,  man  or  boy," 
said  the  horseman,  repeating  his  circuit ;  "  but  you 
don't  fancy  my  company  any  more  than  I  do 
yours.  Well,  good  by  to  ye  all ! "  and  off  he 
paced. 

"  O,  how  glad  I  am  that  he's  gone  !  "  gasped 
Mrs.  Willard.  "  He's  a  monster,  I  know.  I 
was  frightened  'most  to  death." 

"  Lucky  he  didn't  touch  little  Hunchy,"  said  a 
boyish  voice  from  the  wagon. 

They  looked  up.  There  was  Georgie,  on  the 
driver's  seat,  with  Ferdinand's  gun. 

"  I  would  have  shot  him  dead,  had  he  laid  a 
finger  on  one  of  you,"  added  he,  waxing  heroic, 
as  he  perceived  himself  now  "  the  observed  of  all 
observers." 

"  How  would  you  have  done  it?  "  inquired  Fer- 
dinand. 

"  With  your  gun,"  replied  Georgie. 

"  But  you  couldn't ;  there  is  no  cap  on  it !  " 

"  O,  I  didn't  think  of  that,"  said  Georgie,  crest- 
fallen. 

At  noon  they  camped  again  for  dinner,  and 
to   bait   the  horses,   reaching,  at  twilight,  "  Sun 


no  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Prairie"  —  a  vast  stretch  of  land,  different  from 
"  Looking  Glass  Prairie,"  the  surface  being  more 
undulating.  Just  over  the  line  separating  the 
two  were  a  shallow  stream  and  a  clump  of  trees. 
Here  it  was  decided  to  spend  the  night. 


A   NIGHT   ON    THE    PRAIRIE.  Ill 


CHAPTER   X. 

A   NIGHT    ON    THE    PRAIRIE.  DANGER. 

There  was  no  moon,  but  the  blue  vault  above 
was  brilliantly  studded  with  stars.  The  little 
Hunchback  lay  on  the  mattress  beside  the  wagon, 
his  great  thoughtful  eyes  turned  skyward.  At  his 
back  rested  Ferdinand  in  deep  sleep,  while  the 
regular  breathing  of  his  mother,  aunt,  and  Geor- 
gie,  who  occupied  the  mattress  in  the  wagon, 
assured  him  that  he  alone  was  awake. 

His  bodily  littleness  had  been  to  him,  through 
all  his  days,  one  of  his  greatest  trials.  Dwarf! 
how  he  hated  the  word  !  To  be  small  was  to  be 
despised.  He  never  hinted,  even  to  his  mother, 
the  intensity  of  .grief  and  chagrin  arising  from 
his  incomplete  stature.  Those  physically  active 
and  vigorous,  and  of  large  frame,  he  regarded 
as  so  many  reflections  on  his  own  feebleness  and 
insignificance. 

And  now,  as  his  clear  gaze,  wonder-struck: 
searched  the  overarching  depths,  he  felt  of  less 
importance  than  ever,  and  seemed  to  shrink  to 
an  atom.     Those  orbs,  world  on  w^orld,  systems 


112  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

of  worlds,  universes  of  universes,  v^rhat  was  he 
compared  with  them? 

Never  had  he  witnessed  such  a  spectacle  ;  nev- 
er swept  with  his  aspiring  gaze  such  star-gemmed 
spaces,  undimmed,  unobstructed,  rolling,  in  infi- 
nite majesty,  from  horizon  to  horizon,  the  air-» 
medium  pure  as  crystal,  not  a  veiling  vapor,  nor 
a  disturbing  zephyr's  whisper.  How  very,  very 
small  he  felt  I 

Yet,  somehow,  this  shrinking  into  nothingness 
did  not  wound  his  self-respect.  He  was  not 
measuring  himself  with  his  fellow-man,  but  with 
the  mighty  heavens.  And  suddenly  there  came 
sweeping  down  to  him  the  words  of  the  ancient 
singer,  — 

"  When  I  consider  the  heavens,  the  work  of 
Thy  hands,  the  sun  and  the  moon  which  Thou 
hast  ordained,  what  is  man,  that  Thou  art  mind- 
ful of  him,  and  the  son  of  man,  that  thou  visitest 
him  ?  " 

The  dwarf  started  up.  Did  a  voice  repeat 
that  song?  No,  it  was  memory,  he  said  to  him- 
self. As  he  pondered  the  words,  they  filled  him- 
with  profound  self-abasement  —  with  deep,  un- 
ruffled, unresentful  huminty. 

"  How  great  is  God,  the  omnipotent,  all-wise 
Creator  and  Upholder !  "  he  said  to  himself. 
"Why  should  He  deign  to  notice  me — a  mote 
in  His  limitless  empire?" 


^^■'NiM; 


Introduction  of  Simmons.     Page  108. 


A   NIGHT    ON   THE    PRAIRIE.  II 3 

Just  then  there  came  floating  to  his  ear  the  re- 
mainder of  the  royal  hymn. 

"  Thou  madest  him  a  little  lower  than  the 
angels.  Thou  crovvnedst  him  with  glory  and 
honor,  and  didst  set  him  over  the  works  of  Thy 
hands." 

He  raised  himself  again  in  increased  surprise. 
Surely  it  was  no  illusion  this  time.  Some  tongue 
recited  that  passage.  But  solitude  reigned  from 
the  bare  prairie  to  the  stars.  "  How  my  brain 
tricks  me  to-night  I  "  he  said.  "  What  a  strange 
spell  is  on  me  I  " 

Then  his  mind  was  led  to  meditate  upon  the 
singularly-suggested  language. 

"Thou  crownedst  him."  "Then  the  mighty 
Maker  of  the  universe  has  exalted  man,"  he  so- 
liloquized. "  Has  crowned  him  ;  constituted  him 
king,  sovereign  of  creation." 

^^  And  you y  dwarf,"  added  the  mysterious  voice, 
"  are  therefore  a  king  !  " 

"  Who  is  speaking  these  comforting  words  to 
me,"  asked  the  dwarf,  gazing  around.  "How 
weak  I  am  !     It  is  my  own  mind." 

Yes,  queer  contradiction,  they  seemed  foreign 
to  himself,  yet  a  part  of  himself. 

"My  head  is  hot,"  he  ejaculated  "I'll  go  to 
sleep  ;  "  and  he  closed  his  eyes. 

"  Set  him  over  the  works  of  Th^  hands,"  whis- 
pered the  voice.  "The  elephant  is  a  towering 
8 


114  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

mass  of  bone  and  muscle,  yet  man,  king  of  na- 
ture, captures  and  governs  the  huge  beast.  Oxen 
are  sturdy,  but  man  yokes  them.  The  horse  is 
swift  and  strong,  yet  man  puts  bits  in  his  mouth. 
The  fish  of  the  sea,  the  birds  of  the  air,  nay, 
earth  and  ocean,  man  subdues  to  his  own  use." 

"Yes,"  assented  the  still  wakeful  dwarf,  "man 
is  king  of  all  things." 

"And  how  does  he  rule?"  asked  the  viewless 
teacher;  "by  physical  might?" 

"Ah,  I  see,"  replied  the  dwarf,  "it  is  through 
the  mind  —  the  soul." 

"And  you  are  weak  in  body,  deformed,  and 
small  in  size ;  but  are  you  not,  nevertheless,  a 
king?  Assert  your  sovereignty,  then  ;  rule  by  the 
intellect  with  which  God  has  crowned  you." 

"That's  it,"  said  the  dwarf,  sitting  up  in  bed, 
and  resting  his  chin  in  his. small,  white  hand.  "It 
isn't  the  body  that's  monarch,  but  the  brain.  A 
dwarf  may  rule  as  well  as  a  giant." 

Did  an  angel  or  spirit  comfort  the  deformed 
child?  or  were  his  rapt  faculties  elaborating  ideas 
for  his  instruction?  We  do  not  pretend  to  decide. 
Can  you? 

The  angels  brought  "  tr'dings  of  great  joy  "  to 
the  shepherds  watching  their  flocks  by  night  on 
the  plains  of  Bethlehem.  Perhaps  one  of  the 
ministering  host  may  have  whispered  to  little 
Hunchback  as   he  watched   beneath   the   immi- 


A    NIGHT    ON    THE    PRAIRIE.  II5 

grant  wagon  on  the  star-lit  prairie.  One  said 
anciently,  "I  am  little  and  despised,  yet  the  Lord 
thinketh  upon  me." 

A  sound  startled  him  from  the  light  slumber 
into  which  he  had  sunken.  A  moment  more, 
with  a  wild  cry  an  Indian  shot  by  on  a  pony. 

"What's  wanted?"  drowsily  muttered  Ferdi- 
nand, trying  to  rouse  himself. 

"Ferdie,"  asked  the  mother,  drawing  aside  the 
blanket  that  curtained  the  wagon-front,  "  what 
was  that  noise?  It  sounded  like  a  yell.  You 
are  not  in  a  nightmare —  are  you?  " 

"  It's  all  right,  mother,"  said  little  Hunchback. 
"1*11  take  care  of  Ferdinand  ;  go  to  sleep." 

And  the  vigilant  little  dwarf  listened  long  anc' 
anxiously,  fearing  he  knew  not  what.  Then  hi 
stole  cautiously  out  to  where  the  savage  passed. 
There  he  found  a  narrow,  hard-trodden  path. 
Creeping  on  hands  and  knees,  he  carefully  ex- 
amined it. 

"  It  is  an  old  Indian  trail,"  said  he.  "  Only  one 
pony  been  over  it  recently.  There  is  no  danger. 
Probably  the  savage  was  as  much  astonished  at 
seeing  our  team  as  I  was  at  seeing  him." 

And  his  old-young  face  expressing  entire  con- 
fidence in  this  conclusion,  he  returned  to  the  mat- 
tress, and  dropped  asleep. 

But  a  confused  noise  in  the  direction  of  the 


Il6  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

horses  led  him  to  rise  again  after  feoftly  tucking 
the  blanket  against  Ferdie's  back,  and  go  and  see 
what  was  the  matter.  He  found  that  one  of  them, 
having  been  tied  to  a  small  oak,  had  walked 
round  and  round  the  sapling,  till  he  had  wound 
himself  so  closely  as  to  endanger  his  neck  in  his 
frantic  efforts  to  break  away. 

The  dwarf,  with  considerable  difficulty,  disen- 
gaged the  fractious  animal,  and  leading  it  to  the 
wagon,  fastened  the  beast  to  a  hind  wheel.  Then, 
after  shortening  the  rope  with  which  the  other 
horse  was  tied,  —  for  it  was  so  long  that  the  beast 
had  its  fore  leg  entangled  in  it,  —  he  sat  under 
an  oak  thinking. 

"Next  time  we  camp  out,"  he  muttered,  "I 
shall  see  that  the  horses  are  properly  hitched, 
and  that  we  are  not  near  an  Indian  trail." 

A  long  while  he  remained  meditating. 

"All  is  quiet.  I  guess  I'll  get  another  nap," 
said  he  at  length.  He  crept  quietly  under  the 
clothes,  so  as  not  to  disturb  Ferdie.  He  was 
now  thoroughly  weary  and  drowsy.  He  dropped 
mto  a  deep  sleep,  from  which  he  was  startled  by 
something  cold  creeping  across  his  bare  ankles. 
With  lightning  quickness  he  knew  that  it  was  a 
snake.  Perhaps  it  was  harmless,  perhaps  it  was 
deadly.  By  a  strong  effort  at  self-control,  he 
lay  motionless.  Slowly  the  slimy  reptile  worked 
its  way  along,  attracted  by  the  warmth,  towards 


DANGER.  117 

the  middle  of  the  bed.  What  an  age  it  seemed 
till  the  serpent  glided  from  his  limb,  and  nestled 
between  himself  and  Ferdie  ! 

The  dwarf  was  now  in  terror  lest  Ferdie  should 
awake.  What  could  he  do  to  rid  them  of  their 
unwelcome  bed-mate?  He  dared  not  stir,  and 
he  dreaded,  most  of  all,  that  Ferdie  would.  Af- 
ter a  while  Ferdie  threw  an  arm  out  of  bed.  In- 
stantly an  angry  buzz  from  the  reptile  was  heard. 
It  was  a  rattlesnake  !  Ferdie  was  quiet  again, 
and  the  snake  ceased  its  deadly  warning. 

Working  his  big  head  cautiously  round  on  his 
pillow,  so  that  he  might  look  in  the  direction  of 
the  rattling,  the  dwarf  saw  the  snake.  The 
blanket  had  become  disarranged,  leaving  Fer- 
die's  leg  bare,  and  the  venomous  creature  was 
lying  near  the  limb,  on  the  unturned  covering. 

Should  Ferdmand  move  it  was  certain  death ; 
and  that  he  would  remain  quiet  long,  the  dwarf 
knew  was  not  probable.  With  singular  steadi- 
ness and  dexterity  he  began  to  withdraw  his  own 
thin  limbs,  and  at  the  same  time  gradually 
to  raise  himself  so  as  to  sit  up.  The  snake's 
head  was  from  him,  which  was  in  the  Hunch- 
back's favor. 

Twice  the  serpent,  irritated  gently,  shook  its 
rattles.  But  so  wary  and  adroit  was  the  dwarf, 
that  his  snakeship  settled  again  to  repose,  till  the 
Hunchback  softly  sat  up,  pillow  in  hand.     The 


no  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

snake  saw  the  movement,  and  turned  upon  his  ad- 
versary. One  point,  however,  had  been  gained, 
namely,  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  reptile  from 
Ferdie. 

"  If  I  am  bitten  it  will  not  matter  so  much," 
thought  the  dwarf.  "  Mother  couldn't  spare  Fer- 
die, he's  so  well  and  strong." 

The  snake's  head  was  erect,  and  the  red,  forked 
tongue  played  spitefully.  He  was  preparing  to 
spring  upon  the  dwarf,  when,  with  unerring  celer- 
ity, the  pillow  descended  on  the  snake,  and  Fer- 
die was  thrust  from  the  mattress. 

''What  did  you  do  that  for?"  demanded  the 
elder  brother. 

"There's  a  rattlesnake  in  the  bed,"  shrilly 
piped  the  dwarf.  "  Here  it  is,"  he  added,  jump- 
ing aside,  as  the  poison-fanged  intruder  wriggled 
out  from  beneath  the  pillow  at  the  Hunchback. 
But  Ferdie,  seizing  the  whip-stock,  despatched  it 
at  a  blow. 

"When  we  camp  out  again,"  observed  the 
dwarf,  "  we  must  fix  it  so  the  snakes  can't  get  into 
our  bed.'* 

But  streaks  of  light  in  the  east  heralded  the 
advent  of  day.  Immediately  after,  the  sun  peeped 
across  the  prairie,  then  shot  up  fully  to  view. 
Georgie  said  he  seemed  in  a  hurry.  But  our 
immigrants  were  a  second  time  ahead  of  him, 
and  again  he  grew  red  in  the  face ;  and  no  won- 


DANGER.  11^ 

der,  the  lazy,  lubberly  fellow,  to  be  lagging  be- 
hind women  and  boys. 

Mrs.  Willard  and  her  sister  were  performing 
tlieir  toilet  at  the  stream.  Ferdie  and  Georgie 
had  set  about  graining  the  horses,  pouring  about 
two  quarts  of  meal  into  each  pail,  and  stirring  in 
water  to  moisten  it. 

"  I  should  think  the  oats  would  be  better  for 
them  than  this  raw,  cold  hasty-pudding,  without 
anything  on  it,"  said  Georgie. 

"No,"  replied  Ferdie.  "Tom  said  oats  were 
more  stimulating,  but  they  wouldn't  stand  by  like 
meal.     Meal  gives  permanent  strength." 

The  dwarf  now  appeared  with  an  axe  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Here,  Ferdie,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  to  cut 
a  few  sticks.  There,  those  are  just  the  article," 
pointing  to  some  forked  limbs. 

These  were  driven  into  the  ground  a  short  dis- 
tance apart,  the  crotchet  ends  up.  Across  them 
another  stick  was  placed  horizontally.  Then  an 
iron  pot  was  brought  from  the  wagon,  and  hung 
from  the  centre.  This  was  partly  filled  with 
water  from  the  brook,  and  a  fire  started  under  the 
ketde. 

When  the  water  began  to  boil,  aunt  Esther 
dropped  in  potatoes;  and  Mrs.  Willard  sliced 
pork,  and  commenced  frying  it  in  a  spider. 
Plates,  knives  and  forks,  and  cups  and  saucers, 


I20  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

were  produced.  A  cloth  was  laid  on  the  grass, 
and  the  little  family  were  soon,  with  appreciative 
appetite,  discussing  the  simple  repast. 

"  I  believe  I  never  got  up  so  much  refreshed," 
observed  Mrs.  Willard,  "  as  I  did  this  morning." 

"That's  because  you  didn't  sleep  in  a  close 
room,"  sagely  remarked  Georgie. 

"  I  was  afraid  you'd  catch  cold,"  said  aunt  Es- 
ther. 

"  Folks  that  live  in  the  open  air  are  not  subject 
to  colds,"  replied  the  dwarf.  But  he  did  not  al- 
lude to  the  Indian,  and  he  had  charged  Ferdi- 
nand to  say  nothing  about  the  rattlesnake. 

"  It  would  only  frighten  the  women,"  said  he. 


121 


CHAPTER    XL 

A   PIONEER    boy's    OPINION    OF    THE    EAST. 

DISAPPOINTMENT. 

What  a  familiar  aspect  nature  wore  to  Tom  as 
he  journeyed  frontierward  !  Stonewalls,  ledges, 
boulders,  rocks,  gravel,  stumps,  stunted  corn, 
swarming,  suffocating  cities,  east ;  but  here, 
broad  rolling  prairies,  deep  fertile  soil,  waving 
grasses,  beckoning  flowers.  He  hailed  the  con- 
trast with  a  bounding  pulse. 

It  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  had  not  drawn  a  full 
breath  since  he  left  Minnesota.  He  had  suffered 
for  want  of  air  and  room,  and  been  cramped, 
confined,  fettered,  by  social  artificialities. 

Now  he  was  back  to  pure  nature  —  to  boyhood 
associations.  He  was  happy.  Expanding  his 
chest,  and  thumping  it  with  his  friendly  fist,  he 
drank  in  the  prairie  air  as  if  it  were  the  elixir  of 
life,  and  proudly  swept  the  wide  expanse  with  his 
admiring  eye,  as  if  to  say, — • 

"  There's  nothing  like  my  dear,  magnificent 
prairies,  after  all." 

With  what  vividness,  too,  did  these  scenes  re- 
produce the  early  days  of  his  eventful  history  J 


122  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

the  long  journeys  in  the  immigrant  wagon  ;  the 
too  frequent  removals  ;  the  homely,  smoky  squat- 
ter's cabin  ;  the  murderous  scenes  of  the  massacre 
at  Spirit  Lake ;  the  cruel  tomahawking  of  his 
sister  Sarah ;  Charley's  romantic  exploits ;  his 
father's  brave,  heroic  death  ;  his  widowed  moth- 
er's establishment  at  the  frontier  fort  with  the 
noble  wife  of  the  noble  commander  of  the  for* 
tress,  as  governess  of  thei;-  two  lovely  children, 
Willie  and  Alice. 

Alice  !  With  that  name  uprose  before  him  a 
vision  surpassingly  good  and  fair,  setting  his  feel- 
ings into  a  tumult  altogether  too  human  for  a 
parson  in  embryo.  He  tried  to  rally  his  budding 
professional  dignity,  and  banish  the  enchanting 
apparition.  In  vain.  Adown  the  long  stairs, 
through  the  echoing  hall,  warbling  bird-like, 
bursting  blithely  into  the  apartment,  stopping  in 
confused  surprise,  he  saw  again  the  blonde-haired 
fairy,  just  as  he  did  on  his  first  visit  at  the  fort. 

That  image  had  never  wholly  forsaken  him, 
and  ever,  when  it  stood  freshly  before  his  mind's 
eye,  there  was  a  glow  at  his  heart  of  mingled 
worship  and  gratitude,  the  former  for  the  sweet- 
ness, excellence,  and  beauty  of  the  winning  origi- 
nal ;  the  latter,  that  despite  his  plain  garb  and 
humble  circumstances,  she  could  listen  to  his 
story  that  day  with  such  respect,  and  no  apparent 
consciousness  of  the  inequality  of  their  condition. 


TOMS    OPINION   OF   THE   EAST.  1 23 

But  what  worldly  imaginations  for  a  candidate 
for  the  gospel  ministry  I  And  what  was  Alice  to 
Tom? 

"No  doubt,"  murmured  Tom,  endeavoring  to 
shake  off  the  spell,  "  she's  forgotten  me  long 
since.  Her  father  is  a  military  man.  Of  course 
she  has  plenty  of  dashing  young  officers  as  admi- 
rers ;   she  would  not  think  of  the  squatter's  son  !  " 

Tom's  first  visit  was  to  L ,  the  village  where 

lived  the  kind  clergyman  and  the  storekeeper 
wiio  had  enabled  him  to  go  east  to  study.  What 
a  pleasure  to  take  these  good  friends  by  the  hand  ! 
There,  too,  an  inmate  of  the  missionary's  family 
was  curly-pated  Bub,  the  youngest  of  his  broth- 
ers. "  1  wonder,"  cogitated  Tom,  as  he  neared  the 
town,  "  if  Bub  will  know  me  ;  and  if  he  is  the 
same  prankish  little  pet  as  ever ;  and  if  he  still 
rehearses  for  the  pulpit."  For  Bub's  highest  aspi- 
ration had  been  to  preach.  And  that  he  had  not 
altogether  lost  his  taste  for  the  sacred  calling, 
Tom  had  received  evidence  of  in  the  shape  of  a 
printed  note  that  Bub  had  contrived  clandestinely 
to  slip  within  a  letter  to  Tom  from  the  missionary. 
It  ran  thus  :  — 

DEER  tOM  i  AM,  GOING  2  B  A  BIG  MAN  LIK  U. 
i  PREATH  SUMTIMS.  THE  MISUARY  SAYS  I  MAY 
PrEATII  for  HIM,  WHENN  I  DU.  I,  CEND  AKIS. 
I  STODY  HARD.       I  AMM  A  SPLENN  DAD  SKOLLER. 


124  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

The  day  was  warm,  and  Tom  was  not  sur- 
prised, as  he  drove  up  to  the  clergyman's  cabin, 
to  observe  that  the  door  was  open.  He  thought 
it  somewhat  singular,  however,  that,  notwith^ 
standing  the  bustle  attending  their  arrival,  and 
that  the  wagon  in  which  he  was  brought  was 
fully  in  sight  from  the  house  for  quite  a  ways  as 
it  drew  near,  that  no  one  looked  out  at  the  team. 
They  dismounted,  the  horse  w'as  hitched,  they 
approached  the  cabin.  Silence  and  solitude 
seemed  to  dwell  within. 

"  I  fear  the  family  are  away,"  said  Tom. 

Glancing  in,  Tom's  eyes  opened  wide  with  as- 
tonishment. In  a  chair,  his  legs  stretched  out 
before  him,  a  man's  white  cravat  around  his 
throat,  its  broad  folds  enveloping  also  the  chin, 
a  man's  hat  on  his  head,  glasses  astride  his  nose, 
eyes  fixed  on  a  ponderous  volume,  sat  a  fat- 
cheeked  urchin. 

"Bub,  you  scamp,"  cried  Tom,  rushing  in, 
and,  regardless  of  ministerial  proprieties  and 
vestments,  hugging  the  clerical  imp,  the  mission- 
ary's hat  rolling  one  way,  and  the  Commentary, 
to  show  how  heavy  it  was,  falling  with  a  slam  to 
the  floor. 

Never  were  a  couple  of  "  theologues "  more 
antic.  If  a  Committee  of  Supply  on  the  hunt 
for  a  candidate  "suited  to  the  large,  wealth}-, 
and  fashionable    congregation "    at  Upper-crust- 


DISAPPOINTMENT.  1 25 

ville,  had  stepped  in  just  then,  I  doubt  if  either 
of  the  rollicking,  rough-and-tumble  young  divines 
before  them  had  been  in  demand.  Why,  only 
consider.  Bub's  cravat  was  actually  tumbled,  and 
so  was  Tom's  hair. 

After  a  happy  visit  with  the  missionary  and  the 
grocer,  the  former  took  Tom  in  the  storekeeper's 
carriage  next  morning,  and  they  set  out  together 
for  the  fort. 

A  cordial,  affectionate,  tender  greeting  awaited 
Tom  from  General  and  Mrs.  McElroy,  his  broth- 
ers, and  his  mother.  She,  Tom  noticed,  had 
grown  older  ;  but  her  face  was  rounder  and  fairer, 
bespeaking  good  fare  and  contentment. 

"I conclude,"  said  Mrs.  McElroy,  "that,  charmed 
with  eastern  people  and  privileges,  frontier  life 
looks  quite  different  to  you  from  what  it  once  did." 

"Madam,"  heartily  replied  Tom,  *' there  is  much 
that  is  admirable  and  grand  in  the  older  settled 
portions  of  our  country.  But  if  they  have  many 
things  better  than  we,  we  are  not  without  our 
compensations.  Here  society  is  natural,  and 
neighbors  are  sympathizing  and  friendly  ;  there 
caste  distinctions  prevail,  you  know  not  who  lives 
next  door,  and  fashion  tyrannizes.  There  every- 
thing practicable  is  done  for  the  culture  of  the 
mind ;  but  the  young  are  not  developed  physi- 
cally, and  taught  to  be  self-reliant,  as  among  the 
pioneers. 


126  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"  In  religion,  I  prefer  our  simplicity.  It  seemg 
to  me  little  short  of  sacrilege  for  Christians  to 
display  so  much  pride  of  dress  in  the  house  of 
God  as  they  do  east.  And  worship  is  maintained 
at  such  extravagant  expense,  that  the  poor  are 
frequently  debarred  from  the  gospel,  or  are  thrust 
into  back  seats,  or  banished  to  the  galleries. 
Better  our  log-cabin  equality  than  such  a  condi- 
tion of  things. 

"  I  shall  never  lose  the  painful  impression  made 
on  my  mind  by  an  incident  that  happened  to  me 
in  one  of  these  aristocratic  churches. 

"  The  fame  of  the  Rev.  Dr. led  me  one  Sab- 
bath to  go  and  hear  him.  I  arrived  at  his  place 
of  worship  a  little  late.  Entering  the  vestibule, 
I  saw  hanging  before  me  two  signs,  on  which  were 
lettered,  Free  seats  above,  an  index  finger 
pointing  up  stairs.  Of  course  I  inferred  that 
there  were  no  free  seats  below,  and  as  I  did  not 
design  hiring  or  buying  a  seat  in  God's  house 
that  day,  I  went  above. 

"In  high,  straight-backed,  comfortless  pews,  a 
few  of  which  were  furnished  with  tattered  and 
soiled  cushions,  was  a  collection  of  plainly-dressed 
people,  with  faces  marked  by  care,  poverty,  and 
toil.  An  elderly  woman,  of  feeble  appearance 
and  large  frame,  but  saintly  look,  passed  me  her 
mutilated  hymn  book. 

"I  glanced  below.     Every  pew  was  constructed 


DISAPPOINTMENT.  1 27 

for  comfort,  if  not  luxury,  and  not  more  than  one 
third  of  the  sitting  accommodations  were  occu- 
pied—  whole  slips  in  succession  being  entirely 
empty. 

"  The  Scripture  Lesson  was  from  St.  James's 
Epistle,  second  chapter  —  '  My  brethren,  have 
not  the  faith  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  with  re- 
spect of  persons.  For  if  there  come  into  your 
assembly  a  man  with  a  gold  ring,  in  goodly  ap- 
parel, and  there  come  in  also  a  poor  man  in  vile 
raiment,  and  ye  have  respect  to  him  that  wear- 
eth  the  gay  clothing,  and  say  unto  him.  Sit  thou 
here  in  a  good  place,  and  say  to  the  poor,  Stand 
thou  there,  or  sit  here  under  my  footstool,  are  ye 
not  then  partial  in  yourselves?  ' 

"This  withering  rebuke  was  impressively  read 
by  the  pastor,  and  I  scanned  the  countenances  of 
the  audience  to  see  vuhat  their  effect  would  be. 
But  neither  minister  nor  hearer  showed  the  least 
consciousness  that  the  language  applied  to  mod- 
ern assemblages.  Fresh  from  our  uninvidious 
gatherings,  where,  though  a  person  may  be  in 
rags, 

'  A  man  is  a  man  for  a'  that  and  a'  that,' 

the  spectacle  was  —  well,  I  cannot  command  terms 
to  do  justice  to  my  feelings.  They  were  destined 
to  be  intensified,  too,  by  an  occurrence  at  the 
close  of  the  service. 

*' As  I  was  descending  the  long,  wide  stone  stairs 


128  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

leading  from  the  gallery,  an  exclamation  caused 
me  to  look  back.  The  scream  was  uttered  by 
the  aged  woman  who  passed  me  her  book.  Being 
old  and  weakly,  she  had  tripped  and  pitched 
head  foremost.  Springing  to  break  her  fall,  1 
caught  her  on  my  shoulder.  Why  the  weiglit 
and  the  momentum  did  not  send  me  headlong,  I 
do  not  comprehend ;  but  I  sustained  her  suffi- 
ciently long  for  others  to  come  to  our  assistance, 
and  we  helped  her  to  the  sidewalk.  Her  ghastly 
face  and  trembling  limbs  showed  how  great  the 
fright  and  shock  to  her. 

"Was  it  not  singular,  that  I,  a  stranger  from  the 
far-distant  prairies,  chanced  to  be  there  to  save 
the  life  of  that  aged  saint?  " 

"  There  are,  however,  devoted  souls  in  those 
very  churches  —  are  there  not?"  asked  his  mother. 

"  Yes,  many,  dear  mother.  There  are  as  ear- 
nest, unselfish,  large-hearted  Christians  in  the 
eastern  cities  as  ever  blessed  any  age.  But 
while  great  numbers  of  professed  disciples  of  the 
meek  and  lowly  One  attend  church  befrizzled 
and  betrinketed  as  if  at  a  theatre,  thousands  per- 
ish in  the  very  shadow  of  Christian  temples,  as 
ignorant  of  Christ  as  the  pagans  ;  and  multitudes 
lack  the  necessaries  of  life.  These  inconsisten- 
cies make  infidels,  on  the  one  hand,  who  reject  all 
that  is  sacred,  and  fanatics,  on  the  other,  who  fly 
into  all  sorts  of  absurdities." 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 


29 


''Yes,"  said  the  missionary,  "man,  like  the  pen- 
dulum, goes  to  extremes.  When  I  was  east,  dis- 
orderly classes  of  religionists  arose,  who  plunged 
into  the  wildest  excesses.  A  very  singular  form 
of  fanaticism  obtained  at  one  time,  called  the 
Shaking  Power.  It  had  a  queer  history.  Shall 
I  tell  you  about  it?  It  will,  I  think,  be  quite  en- 
tertaining." 

"  O,  yes ;  do  let  us  hear  about  it,"  said  the 
ladies. 

The  Shaking  Power. 

*'  Some  forty  miles  from  my  home,"  said  the 
missionary,  "in  a  populous  town,  a  *  meeting' 
was  sustained  with  fanatical  furor,  composed  of 
a  motley  assemblage  from  various  sects  and  or- 
ders, and  holding  sentiments  the  most  discordant, 
if  we  except  the,  with  them,  essential  point — rail- 
ing at  *  the  churches.'  Here,  members  excluded 
for  grave  faults  from  the  fellowship  of  Christians, 
restless,  self-exscinded  spirits  inflamed  by  fickle 
isms  peculiar  to  themselves,  and  those  who  never 
belonged,  or  expected  to  belong,  to  an  orderly  or- 
ganization of  any  kind,  met  to  sympathize  and 
act  in  wild'  religious  freedom,  where  everybody 
could  be  teachers,  and  anything  be  taught.  Of 
members  of  Christian  churches  they  were  accus- 
tomed to  speak  as  those  who  have  the  ^  form  of 
godliness,  but  deny  ih^  fower  thereof; '  meaning 

9 


130  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

that  these  had  system  and  decorum,  and  lacked 
those  noisy  and  eccentric  manifestations  of  zeal 
in  worship  which  they  themselves  exhibited. 

"  Religion  with  these  zealots  was  almost  wholly 
a  *  meeting '  affair,  and  to  exhort  or  pray  in 
public  was  preeminently  'taking  up  the  cross;' 
and  to  know,  on  such  occasions,  what  to  do,  and 
how  to  do  it,  they  sought  to  '  move  as  they  were 
moved  upon  by  the  Spirit ; '  in  other  words,  act 
out  such  impulse  as  chanced  to  seize  them,  whether 
it  were  to  perambulate  the  sanctuary  in  sight  of 
the  congregation,  and  then  kneel  in  the  aisle  and 
pray,  or  make  remarks  from  the  pulpit  stairs.  It 
mattered  not  how  fantastic  and  foolish  the  im- 
pulse ;  it  was  tobe  unhesitatingly  obeyed  :  indeed, 
the  more  senseless  and  erratic,  the  greater  proof 
to  their  minds  of  the  Spirit's  power  and  control. 
As  to  preaching,  it  could  not  be  known  before- 
hand if  there  would  be  any,  or  who  would  be  the 
preacher  —  this  being  left  for  the  decision  of  the 
Spirit  after  the  people  had  assembled,  and  one 
was  as  liable  to  be  called  to  fill  that  office  for  the 
time  being  as  another.  A  heavy  'cross,'  indis- 
criminately imposed,  was  to  go  into  the  pulpit 
and  speak  and  pray,  so  that  in  the  course  of  an 
evening  a  dozen  or  more,  old  and  young,  male 
and  female,  would  attain  that  conspicuous  post ; 
and  if  any  one,  after  ascending^  had  to  ^^scend 
without  uttering  a  word,  the  boisterous  shouts  of 


DISAPPOINTMENT.  I^ji 

'Praise  the  Lord,'  *  Glory  to  God,*  showed  tha< 
it  was  regarded  as  evidence  of  peculiar  sanctity 
—  .jie  grace  of  humility  had  been  tested,  and  had 
triuinphed. 

"A  feature  of  this  fanaticism,  which  took  the 
lead  in  exciting  wonder  and  inspiring  the  credu- 
lous with  awe,  ultimately  operated  as  a  cure  of 
the  evil  it  was  designed  to  foster.     It  was  called 

*  the  shaking '  or  '  trembling  power,*  and  origi- 
nated with  a  farmer,  who,  though  not  without 
natural  cunning,  was  below  his  class  in  intelli- 
gence, and  whose  life  up  to  that  time  had  borne 
meagrely,  if  at  all,  the  fruits  of  goodness.  He 
would  meekly  say  he  was  '  slow  of  speech,'  and 

*  as  he  could  not  speak  like  the  rest,  they  must 
let  him  bear  the  cross  the  Lord  had  put  upon 
him,'  which  was  to  shake.  This  was  the  utility 
of  his  gift :  he  watched  the  countenances  of  those 
present,  and,  if  any  one  'neglected  duty,'  he 
professed  to  detect  it  by  the  involuntary  tremblings 
that  shook  his  frame  —  their  violence  being  in 
proportion  to  the  importance  of  the  duty,  and  the 
length  of  disobedience.  Sometimes  he  called  on 
the  delinquent  to  'do  his  duty,'  —  a  call  which 
was  considered  divinely  prompted,  and  was  at 
once  obeyed. 

"  One  evening  our  enthusiasts  had  met  in  a 
school-house.  It  was  dark  and  drizzly  without, 
and   marvellously   dull   within  —  perchance   the 


132  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

effects  of  the  weather,  or  a  stupid  reaction,  the 
sure  sequence  of  spurious  zeal.  Silence  reigned 
for  a  long  time.  At  length  a  man  advanced  to 
the  teacher's  desk,  and,  in  husky,  monotonous 
tones,  helped  on  the  general  lethargy.  A  pro- 
tracted pause  ensued,  which  was  broken  by  a 
maiden  lady  suddenly  springing  to  her  feet  and 
commencing  an  exhortation.  Her  faded  and 
dirty  linsey-woolsey  dress,  which  she  *  wore  from 
principle,'  fell  straight  and  close  about  her  form  ; 
her  coarse  black  hair  was  unevenly  cut  short  in 
the  neck  Mo  shame  pride,'  while  her  wrinkled 
skin,  nut-brown  complexion,  stumpy  gums,  and 
^yes  wildly  flashing  as  she  paced  the  floor  gestic- 
ulating violently,  and  with  shrill  voice  denounced 
'  hypocrites  and  formal  professors,'  gave  her  a 
weird  and  haggish  expression.  When  her  mes- 
sage was  delivered,  a  dumpy  man  in  semi-Quaker 
garb,  who  sat  in  a  semi-recumbent  posture  gazing 
at  the  floor,  remarked,  without  looking  up,  that 
he  was  no  singer  naturally  ;  that  he  did  not  know 
one  tune  from  another ;  but  when  the  Spirit  told 
him  to  sing,  he  must  sing  ;  and  he  gruffly  chanted 
to  extemporaneous  music,  composed  as  he  went 
along,  keeping  time  meanwhile  with  one  foot,  — 

'  The  pure  testimony  put  forth  in  the  Sperit 

Cuts  like  a  sharp  two-edged  sword, 
And  hypocrites  now  are  sorely  tormented, 

Because  they're  condemned  by  the  Word; 


DISAPPOINTMENT.  1 33 

The  pure  testimony  discovers  the  dross, 

While  wicked  professors  make  light  of  the  cross, 

And  Babylon  trembles  for  fear  of  her  loss.' 

An  embarrassing  silence  again  occurring,  some 
one  prayed  the  Lord  to  *show  them  what  it  was 
that  clogged  the  wheels  of  the  meeting,  and  kept 
them  from  moving' — a  prayer  which  seemed 
to  them  about  to  be  answered,  as  a  peculiar  jar- 
ring of  the  floor  and  seats  gave  notice  of  the  ad- 
vent of  the  shaking  power. 

"  This  curious  phenomenon  was  of  an  intermit- 
tent type,  affecting  first  the  lower  extremities, 
imparting  a  tremulousness  just  perceptible,  ex- 
tending slowly  to  the  whole  body,  meanwhile  in- 
creasing in  strength.  Then  passing  off*,  a  few 
moments  would  elapse  before  a  recurrence  in  the 
same  manner,  each  fit  being  augmented  in  length 
and  intensity. 

"  The  *  power  '  brother  suffered  one  attack  with- 
out speaking.  While  agitated  by  the  second,  he 
said  oracularly,  but  retaining  his  seat,  — 

" '  If  anybody  here  has  a  duty  to  do,  he  had 
better  do  it ! ' 

"  '  Amen  !  Amen  ! '  fervently  responded  the 
brother-and-sisterhood,  nodding  approval,  and 
exchanging  relieved  glances  as  they  looked  in 
the  direction  indicated.  The  candles  burned 
dimly  ;  but  remote  by  himself,  among  some  un-. 
occupied  seats,  could  be  discerned  the  figure  of  a 


134  'THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

man  wrapped  in  a  cloak,  his  hat  drawn  over  his 
eyej,  his  face  resting  on  t!ie  desk  before  him. 
The  conclusion  was,  that  it  was  some  one  bend- 
ing under  the  weight  of  a  too  heavy  cross ;  and 
the  shaking-power  brother,  after  ineffectually 
rising  and  saying,  '  If  the  bi other  yonder 
has  a  duty  to  do,  I  say  he  had  better  do  it,' 
with  apparent  difficulty  dragg  ..  his  trembling 
fame  across  the  room,  and  laiu  his  hand  authori- 
tativeh^  on  the  shoulder  of  the  delinquent,  when, 
lo  !  the  cloak  slipped  to  the  f  oor  —  there  was  no 
one  under  it !  It  had  chanc  d  to  be  left  in  such  a 
position  as  to  look,  in  the  uncertain  light,  as  if 
filling  its  wonted  office  to  the  human  form  — 
hence  the  mistake.  Fanaticism  is  proverbial'  ' 
ingenious  in  turning  its  most  palpable  blunders 
into  favoring  arguments,  but  I  never  heard  that 
this  one  was  so  used.  The  effiict  of  the  scene 
was  irresistible.  It  dealt  the  shaking  power  a 
blow  from  which  it  did  not  recover,  and  the  meet- 
ing dwindled  in  interest  and  numbers,  many  of 
the  misguided  attendants  returning  to  their  former 
religious  indiffiirence,  and  others,  who  had  been 
honestly  led  astray,  to  happier  spiritual  associa- 
tions." 

"Mother,"  hesitatir-rly  asked  Tom,  when 
alone  with  her,  "  wi»ere  are  the  rest  of  the  fort 
people  ?  " 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 


135, 


**That  is  a  very  sweeping  question,"  she  re- 
plied ;  "  I  do  not  understand  it." 

"  I  have  seen  the  general,  and  his  wife,  and 
Willie,"  explained  he,  coloring,  "but  where  is 
Alice?" 

"  Why,  Tom,  have  you  forgotten  that  she  was 
lost?" 

"  Lost  I  "  repeated  the  son,  with  strong  empha- 
sis. "Why  was  I  not  informed  of  it?  Lost! 
how?  when?" 

"  I  wrote  you  the  distressing  intelligence ;  the 
letter  must  have  miscarried."  She  then  related 
the  circumstances  connected  with  her  disappear- 
ance. When  she  had  finished,  Tom  sat  with 
drooping  head,  buried  in  thought. 

At  last,  starting  as  if  awakened  from  sleep,  he 
exclaimed,  "  Mother,  I  know  what  happened 
to  Alice.  She  was  carried  off  by  the  Indians, 
and  I  have  seen   her ! " 

He  then  recited  his  adventure  with  the  chief's 
daughter,  ending  by  affirming  that  she  and  Alice 
w^ere  the  same. 

"You  are  excited,  my  son,"  replied  the  mother, 
soothingly.  "There  are  no  points  of  resem- 
blance. Alice  had  Hght  hair,  the  Indian  girl 
black  ;  then  consider  how  fair  Alice  was  —  too 
white  to  be  mistaken  for  a  savage.  Besides,  why 
did  she  not,  by  word  or  glance,  make  herself 
known?" 


136  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

These  objections  to  his  conjecture  were  unan^. 
swerable ;  yet  Tom  was  not  convinced  that  he 
was  wrong,  and  replied,  — 

"  Well,  I  shall  hunt  up  Long  Hair,  and  my 
visit  shall  be  spent  in  seeking  to  unravel  this  mys- 
tery ;  "  and  he  left  the  room,  pale,  bowed,  and 
resolute,  as  if  a  weight  of  sorrow  and  of  duty 
had  suddenly  fallen  upon  him. 


THE    DISCOVERY. BRAIN    OR    BONE.       137 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    dwarf's    DISCOVERY. BRAIN    OR   BONE. 

"I  THINK  we  had  better  settle  down  some- 
where," said  the  dwarf,  "  and  not  wander  over 
the  prairies  forever.  This  is  not  just  where  I 
meant  to  stop ;  but  Tom's  chart  was  lost,  and  we 
must  make  the  best  of  it." 

"  But  how  do  we  know  that  the  land  here  is 
not  preempted?"  inquired  Mrs.  Willard. 

"  I'll  venture  that,"  r^eplied  the  Hunchback ; 
"  we  are  in  the  region  Tom  said  was  not  taken 
up.     Besides,  there  are  no  signs  of  settlers." 

The  two  women  put  their  heads  out  of  the 
wagon,  and  looked  around. 

"  We  certainly  should  not  be  troubled  with 
neighbors  in  this  solitude,"  observed  Mrs.  Wil' 
lard,  dubiously. 

"  Nor  sigh  '  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilder 
ness,'  "  suggested  her  sister. 

"  But  what  should  we  do  in  case  of  sickness?  " 
forebodingly  asked  the  former. 

"Take  care  of  each  other,"  replied  the  dwarf. 

** Suppose  we  were  all  sick  at  once?" 


138  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"Suppose  the  Man  in  the  Moon  should  shoot 
us,"  gruffly  grunted  the  dwarf.  "We  came  out 
to  get  a  farm,  and  we  can't  do  it  by  remaining  in 
the  wagon  all  our  lives,  and  conjuring  difficulties. 
If  we  mean  to  do  anything,  let  us  begin,  I  say." 

"Well,  boys,  what  do  you  think?"  inquired 
the  mother,  of  Ferdie  and  Georgie. 

But  their  courage  was  at  low  tide  ;  and  dis- 
pirited, they  turned  their  faces  aside  without  an- 
swering. 

Arriving  west  and  going  west  they  had  found 
to  be  very  different. 

Prospective  pioneering  and  the  reality  were  so 
unlike  !  They  had  not  counted  the  cost  in  en- 
couraging their  father  to  immigrate,  nor  in  ac- 
cepting Tom's  plan  foi;  them.  Very  romantic 
ideas  had  they  entertained  of  life  on  the  prairies. 
But  now  they  were  reduced  to  plain  matters  of 
fact. 

"  I  am  sorry  we  ever  left  the  east !  "  fretted 
Georgie. 

"  We  can't  help  that  now,"  replied  his  mother. 

"  But  how  are  we  to  get  along  in  this  miser- 
able place?  "  asked  Ferdinand.  "  No  neighbors, 
no  house  to  live  in ;  nothing  but  land,  land ! 
How  are  we  to  live  ?  " 

"By  thought,  contrivance,  and  work,"  said  the 
dwarf. 

"O,  yes,  you'd  do   lots  of   work!"    retorted 


THE    DISCOVERY.  —  BRAIN    OR   BONE.        I39 

Georgie.  "  If  you  peel  your  own  potatoes,  you'll 
do  well." 

"I'll  do  my  part,  if  you  will  yours,"  piped  the 
dwarf. 

"Yes,  you'll  think.  Well,  I  prefer  that  part 
myself." 

"  I  tell  you,"  reiterated  the  dwarf,  frowning, 
"I'll  do  my  part  if  you'll  do  yours." 

"  My  sons,"  sadly  interposed  the  mother,  "you'll 
kill  your  mother  if  you  quarrel.  We  have  met 
with  great  trouble.  We  must  love  and  help  each 
other.  And  remember,  children, -it  is  through 
no  fault  of  Frankie's  that  he  is  not  as  strong  as 
the  rest  of  us.  But  how  beautifully  he  remem- 
bered the  route  !  I  am  not  sure,  with  his  strong 
memory  and  time  for  thought,  but  that  he  will 
be  as  useful  in  making  our  new  home  as  either 
of  us." 

"Mother,"  said  little  Hunchie,  softened  by 
her  soothing  speech,  "you  know  that  I  was  the 
last  to  give  in  my  assent  to  Tom's  plan.  I  knew 
Ferdinand  and  Georgie  w^ere  too  excited  about 
the  prairies  to  weigh  the  matter.  But  we  are 
here,  and  I  believe  we  shall  succeed  nicely  after 
a  while.  It  is  in  our  favor  that  there  are  no  set- 
tlers, for  we  can  choose  the  best  of  the  land. 
Tom  says  this  whole  region  is  destined  to  be 
thickly  populated.  And  don't  you  recollect  how 
crowded  the  cars  and  steamers  were  with  people 


140  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

bound  to  Minnesota?  We  shall  have  neighbors 
soon  enough.  We  must  select  our  claim  as  wise- 
ly as  we  can  while  there  is  so  fine  a  chance,  and 
hasten  to  improve  it,  so  that  new  comers  may  not 
get  it  from  us." 

"  Frankie  is  right,"  decided  the  mother.  "Let 
us  make  a  beginning*  All  is,  if  we  can't  get 
on  farming,  we  shall  have  the  claim  to  sell ;  and 
we  can  go  back  to  the  Mississippi,  dispose  of 
our  team,  and,  if  we  wish,  return  to  Maine." 

"So  we  can,"  chimed  in  Georgie,  brightening. 
"  But  what's  to  be  done  first  ?  I'm  sure  I  don't 
know." 

"  Select  a  site  for  a  cabin,"  answered  the  dwarf, 
curtly.  "  Mother,  you  and  aunt  Esther  get  din- 
ner, while  we  boys  attend  to  this  business.  Un- 
hitch the  horses  from  the  wagon,  Ferdinand. 
You  take  one,  and  Georgie  the  other,  and  ride  in 
opposite  directions,  and  see  what  sort  of  a  spot 
for  a  house  you  can  choose.  We  ought  to  find  a 
spring,  if  possible,  as  we  shall  not  be  able  to  dig 
a  well,  and  river  water  isn't  wholesome  to  drink. 
Tom  said  there  is  too  much  decaying  vegetable 
matter  in  it." 

"We  shan't  ride,  and  we  are  going  together," 
said  Ferdinand.  "Come,  Georgie  ;"  and  snatch- 
ing auni  Esther's  red  shawl,  and  adjusting  half 
to  Georgie's  shoulders  and  the  remainder  over  his 
own,  with  arms  around  each  other's  waists,  they 
sauntered  off. 


THE    DISCOVERY.  — BRAIN    OR   BONE.        141 

''They'll  learn  that  it  isn't  all  play,"  said 
Frankie,  gazing  after  the  scarlet-robed  boys. 

They  had  gone,  perhaps,  a  half  mile,  when, 
Ferdie  suddenly  slinging  the  shawl  across  his 
arm,  the  brothers  ran,  excitedly,  different  ways, 
describing  a  large  circle.  Then,  waving  their 
caps,  they  shouted,  — 

"  Drive  over  here  !  This  is  the  place.  Splen- 
did for  dinner,  too  !  " 

So,  the  women  and  Frankie  getting  into  the 
wagon,  the  latter  guided  the  span  there. 

*'  It's  perfectly  charming  !  "  cried  aunt  Esther, 
with  unwonted  enthusiasm. 

They  had  reached  a  gentle  swell  of  ground, 
at  the  foot  of  which  was  an  oval-shaped  lakelet, 
its  turfy  borders  being  as  evenly  curved  as  if  done 
with  the  landscape  gardener's  tools,  and  the  wa- 
ter was  so  translucent  that  the  smallest  object 
could  be  seen  at  the  bottom.  It  was  fed  by  boil- 
ing springs,  several  of  which,  at  either  end,  were 
sending  up  fine  white  sand,  while  farther  from 
the  shore  was  still  another,  of  great  size  and 
force.     A  mile  and  a  half  west  was  a  line  grove, 

"Well  done!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Willard,  with 
maternal  pride.  "You  have  won  credit  to  your- 
selves. We  can  erect  our  cabin  on  the  top  of  the 
eminence,  and  it  will  command  a  splendid  view. 
The  lake  will  furnish  an  unfailing  supply  of 
sweet  and  healthful  water.  And  when  we  open 
our  farm,  €very  inch  of  it  will  be  in  sight.'* 


142  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"Now,"  cried  Ferdie  and  Georgia  in  a  breath, 
**we'll  feed  the  horses,  while  mother  cooks  din- 
ner." 

"You  may  leave  the  headstall  on  the  off  horse, 
Ferdie,"  said  the  dwarf. 

"What  for?  He  can't  eat  with  the  bits  in  his 
mouth." 

"  Guess  ril  have  a  short  ride,"  answered  the 
Hunchback.  "Lead  him  alongside  the  forward 
wheel,  Ferdie.  Now,  fold  this  blanket,  and  strap 
it  on  his  back;"  and  springing  from  the  wagon, 
the  dwarf  mounted  the  animal. 

Ferdie  and  Georgie  clapped  their  hands  and 
shouted,  the  odd-shaped  rider  cut  so  queer  a 
figure. 

The  slim,  short  legs  and  arms,  and  big  head, 
the  latter  "beating  time,'  nodding  and  jerking 
with  the  motion  of  the  horse,  did  indeed  con- 
stitute a  ludicrous  picture. 

"  How  his  head  bobs  ! "  said  Georgie,  laughing 
uncontrollably.     "It'll  snap  off,  I'm  afraid." 

"  Hush,  boys,"  interposed  the  mother,  in  an  un- 
dertone. "You  will  hurt  Frankie's  feelings.  It  is 
a  noble  head,  if  it  is  large.  'Tisn't  all  bone,  like 
many  big-headed  folks,  and  it's  properly  put  to- 
gether. Then,  raising  her  voice,  "  Don't  be  gone 
long,  Frankie,  or  I  shall  worry  about  you." 

The  stout  horse  and  small  rider  plodded  slov/ly 
on,  for  the  dwarf  had  never  ridden  a  beast  before, 


TItE   DISCOVERY.  —  BRAIN  OR    BONE.        1 43 

and  his  weighty  top-piece  toppled  painfully  when 
the  animal  trotted. 

He  was  away  some  time.  The  family  became 
anxious  concerning  him,  and  Ferdie  was  on  the 
point  of  taking  the  other  horse,  and  riding  to 
see  if  any  accident  had  befallen  him,  when  he 
emerged  from  the  grove.  On  his  arrival,  he 
silently  seated  himself  on  the  grass,  and  ate  the 
bountiful  portion  his  mother  had  reserved,  while 
his  brothers  and  aunt  Esther  discussed  which  way 
the  projected  cabin  should  set. 

"Tom  said  the  door  ought  to  be  towards  the 
south,"  remarked  Ferdinand,  "because  it's  the 
sunny  and  warm  side." 

"Then  we  will  have  it  so,"  answered  aunt  Es- 
ther. 

"Come,  Ferdinand,  harness  up,"  interrupted 
the  dwarf,  wiping  his  mouth. 

"  Harness  up?  Not  by  a  jugful !  We  are  go- 
ing to  build  the  cabin  here,"  cried  Ferdie  and 
Georgie  at  the  top  of  their  lungs.  "Aren't  we, 
mother?" 

"My  son,"  said  Mrs.  Willard,  laying  her  hancf 
lovingly  on  the  Hunchback's  shoulder,  "all  of 
us  deem  this  a  delighful  spot.  Don't  you  think 
we  had  better  build  our  new  abode  here?" 

"What  shall  we  build  it  of?  "  asked  he. 

"Of  logs,"  tartly  replied  Ferdinand.  "You 
didn't  dream  that  we  designed  erecting  a  marble 
palace  —  did  you  ?  " 


144  "^"^   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

"Where  will  you  get  the  logs?"  persisted 
Hunchback. 

"  There  are  a  pair  of  sharp  axes  in  the  wagon, 
and  a  grove  yonder,"  returned  Ferdinand,  lofUly. 

"  How  will  you  get  the  logs  here  ?  " 

"  We  suppose  the  span  can  draw  them." 

"  And  after  the  logs  are  brought,  are  you  and 
Georgie  strong  enough  to  lift  the  great  green 
tree-trunks  upon  each  other,  till  the  walls  of  the 
cabin  are  constructed?  It  would  require  a  com- 
pany of  men." 

As  there  was  no  reply  to  this,  the  Hunchback 
added, — 

"  Hurry,  and  tackle  in  the  horses,  and  drive  to 
the  grove." 

They  were  soon  there. 

"Now,"  said  the  dwarf,  jumping  out  of  the 
vehicle,  '* hitch  the  span;  then  all  follow  me." 

Striking  a  narrow  path,  which  he  pronounced 
a  deer's  trail,  leading  through  the  wood,  there, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  grove,  sheltered  from  the 
north  winds,  stood  a  snug  cabin.  It  was  un- 
shingled,  and  without  door  or  windows.  There 
was,  indeed,  no  aperture  for  the  latter.  A  few 
loose  boards  composed  the  floor.  Wide  cracks 
yawned  in  the  walls.  Some  rods  farther  on 
flowed  the  creek.  Between  it  and  the  cabin  was 
a  copious  spring  of  ice-cold  water.  Facing  the 
dwelling  was  smooth  prairie,  and  at  a  convenient 


THE    DISCOVERY. BRAIN   OR    BONE.        T45 

distance  was  a  small,   unroofed   shed,   built  of 
logs. 

"  I  had  been  considering  the  case,"  remarked 
the  dwarf,  "  and  saw  that  we  could  not,  unassist- 
ed, build  a  cabin,  and  that  we  must,  therefore, 
locate  near  some  town  where  help  could  be  pro- 
cured. But,  you  know,  land  is  high  in  such 
places.  We  can  fix  this  up,  and  manage  to  live 
for  the  present." 

"What  if  the  owners  return  and  claim  it?" 
asked  prudent  aunt  Esther. 

"No  danger  of  that,"  affirmed  the  Hunchback. 
"See  how  dry  the  logs  of  the  walls  are,  and  there 
are  no  traces  of  footsteps.  The  cabin  is  very  old, 
and  has  long  been  abandoned.  Years  ago,  be- 
fore immigration  had  penetrated  so  far,  it  was 
erected,  no  doubt,  by  the  hunter  and  trapper.  It 
is  on  Uncle  Sam's  land,  and  we  may  occupy  it  if 
we  will." 

Mrs.  Willard  drew  the  young-old  head  to  her, 
and  pressing  a  kiss  on  the  dwarf's  lips,  presently 
said,  -^ 

"  What  should  we  do  without  our  wise 
Frankie?" 

10 


146  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A   STRANGE   VISITOR.  —  THE    MAN    IN    THE    CHIM 

NEY    CORNER. 

The  cabin  which  the  Willards  had  appropri. 
ated  was  built  of  massive  logs,  through  which 
was  an  occasional  loophole.  For,  when  the 
first  pioneers  took  possession  of  the  soil,  the  log 
houses  were  constructed  so  as  to  be  fortresses 
upon  occasion.  Later  comers,  being  less  suspi- 
cious of  their  copper-colored  neighbors,  did  not 
provide  against  hostilities  which  they  expected 
not. 

But  the  walls  of  the  cabin,  beaten  upon  by  sun 
and  storm,  had  shrunken  till  wide  seams  let  the 
prairie  winds  —  accustomed  to  thf  ir  own  way,  un- 
checked by  obstacles — through  and  through  the 
dilapidated  structure,  whistling  as  they  went,  to 
express  their  contempt  for  the  architectural  ex- 
crescence. The  zephyr,  just  from  touching  with  a 
respectful  kiss  the  beautiful  prairie  flowers,  would 
pucker  up  its  lips  and  dart  through  the  unsightly 
building  with  a  w-h-e-w  !  as  if  ashamed  of  being 
seen  in  so  poor  an  abode.     And  it  must  be  con- 


A   STRANGE    VISITOR.  I47 

fessed  that  a  log  house  does  not  compare  well  with 
the  blossoming  verdure  amid  wliich  it  squats. 
Still,  human  beings,  unlike  wild  flowers,  must 
have  a  house  over  their  heads,  and  the  homely 
loggery  has  been  the  home  of  many  a  soul  worth 
more  than  worlds. 

"  I  really  believe,"  observed  Mrs.  Willard, 
next  morning  after  their  arrival  at  the  cabin, 
"  that  I  suffered  more  from  the  cold  last  night 
than  I  did  sleeping  in  the  wagon,"  and  she  shiv- 
ered as  she  spoke.  ''  I  guess,  boys,  you  will  have 
to  stop  up  the  cracks  in  the  walls,  if  you  do  not 
wish  mother  to  get  sick." 

"  We'll  set  about  it  to-day,"  manfully  answered 
Ferdinand,  entering. 

"That's  right,"  replied  she,  turning  towards 
him  with  a  pleased  smile.  "  Why,  what  have 
you  there,  my  son?" 

"  Partridges,"  responded  he,  proudly  swinging 
them  into  view.  "Last  night,  after  all  were 
asleep,  and  everything  was  still,  I  heard  a  rum- 
bling sound  in  the  grove.  So,  going  noiselessl}'" 
out  of  doors,  I  listened.  Soon  it  was  repeated, 
and  I  knew  that  it  was  a  partridge  drumming  on 
a  log  to  call  its  mate.  At  daybreak  I  was  out 
hunting.  Guess  we  will  have  a  nice  dinner  to- 
day," he  added,  triumphantly. 

"  And  we  shall  be  indebted  to  your  smartness 
for  it,"  said  aunt  Esther. 


148  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"And  now,  Ferdinand,  if  you  and  Georgie 
will  get  me  some  wood,  and  make  a  fire,  we  will 
have  breakfast." 

"And  I,"  remarked  aunt  Esther,"  will  pick 
and  dress  the  partridges." 

"  Those  fowl  are  worth  much  more  than  their 
value  to  us  as  food,"  observed  Mrs.  Willard,  with 
emotion,  as  the  boys  left.  "Notice  Ferdinand; 
how  cheerfully  he  steps  off  with  shouldered  axe  ! 
His  dear  father  bore  the  burden  in  the  care  of 
the  family,  and  it  is  a  new  thing  for  the  boys  to 
do  much  for  themselves  or  us. 

"But  even  the  shooting  of  those  birds  has  given 
Ferdinand  a  taste  of  the  happiness  of  self-reli- 
ance. Perhaps  this  pioneering  is  destined  to 
develop  him  into  a  useful  man.  Hear  their 
axes  !  How  enlivening  the  sound  !  I  must  run 
out  and  see  how  they  manage." 

The  grove  in  which  was  the  cabin  was  princi- 
pally of  oak.  Among  the  leafy  trees  stood  here 
and  there  one  killed  by  prairie  fires.  Two  of 
these  —  they  were  not  large  —  the  boys  were 
falling.  The  wood  of  the  dead  trees  was  sound, 
dry,  and  exceedingly  hard,  and  the  task  of  cut- 
ting them  down,  and  chopping  them  into  suitable 
lengths,  was  none  too  easy. 

"  How  bravely  you  get  along  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Willard,  quietly  loading  her  arms  with  some  of 
the  smaller  sticks;  and,  notwithstanding  Ferdi- 


A    STRANGE    VISITOFt.  I49 

nand  cried   out,  "  Don't   do   that,   mother!"  she 
carried  them  into  the  cabin. 

But  the  boys  quickly  followed  with  lusty  loads. 
Then  they  lugged  in  a  huge  backlog,  and  de- 
posited it  in  the  clay-stick-and-stone  fireplace ; 
more  wood  was  added,  and  if  the  smoke  did  puff 
out  into  the  room,  ere  long  a  merry  fire  was 
crackling,  and  tea-kettle  and  pot  steaming. 

"  Chinking,"  or  stopping  up  the  cracks  in  the 
sides  of  the  loggery,  was  a  slower  and  more  labo- 
rious job  than  the  lads  anticipated.  The  manner 
of  accomplishing  this,  is  to  hew  pieces  of  wood 
sufficiently  narrow  on  one  edge  to  enter  the  crev- 
ices ;  then,  striking  on  the  broad  or  outer  part, 
they  are  driven  closely  in  and  nailed. 

Oak  being  too  hard  to  work,  or  even  to  secure, 
the  nails  often  bending  and  breaking,  the  wood 
was  so  impervious,  the  boys  chose  poplar  instead. 
This  was  soft  and  Hght,  and  proved  just  the 
thing.  Several  days  elapsed,  however,  before 
the  chinking  had  far  advanced. 

Next  came  "  mortaring  "  the  chinking.  This, 
in  a  new  country,  is  usually  done  with  clay.  The 
moist,  tenacious  earth  is  thrown  violently,  by  the 
hand,  between  the  logs. 

"Jolly!  I  can  do  that,"  cried  Georgie.  "It 
will   be   like   snowballing." 

But  he  was  glad  to  cease  from  the  attempt. 
Nor  did  Ferdinand  succeed  much  better.      For, 


150  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Strange  as  it  may  appear  to  the  uninitiated,  this 
style  of  mortaring  requires  a  powerful  arm  and 
no  little  physical  endurance. 

One  afternoon,  as  the  brothers,  with  lamed 
arms,  were  ineffectually  laboring  at  clay -balls, 
they  heard  behind  them  the  snort  of  a  horse. 
Turning,  there  sat  a  rider  coolly  watching,  with 
an  amused  air,  their  endeavors. 

"You  ate  not  exactly  used  to  that  business," 
he  remarked,  dismounting.  "  Here,  I'll  show  you 
how." 

And  stripping  off  his  coat,  and  rolling  up 
his  shirt-sleeves,  displaying  a  massive  arm,  he 
scooped  up  the  clay,  and  threw  it  with  great  pre- 
cision and  force. 

"Now,  boys,"  he  went  on  in  a  complimentary 
manner,  "you  are  bright  enough  for  'most  any- 
thing, but  you  haven't  the  muscle  for  this.  Be- 
sides, it  wants  practice." 

And  while  they  looked  on  he  continued  mortar- 
ing and  chatting,  till  quite  a  space  was  finished. 
Meanwhile  the  sun  was  declining.  Suddenly  it 
slipped  off  the  edge  of  the  prairie,  and  dropped 
from  view. 

For  some  time  the  boys  had  been  feeling  un- 
easy. They  saw  the  afternoon  waning,  and  tea 
approaching,  and  then  night.  And  the  stranger 
—  who  was  he?  How  he  lingered — so  keen 
and  self-confident !  Was  he  a  fit  person  to  invite 
into  the  cabin? 


A   STRANGE   VISITOR.  151 

The  mother  and  aunt  were  not  unaware  of  this 
presence,  and  the  former  delayed  supper,  hoping 
he  would  leave.  The  boys,  too,  though  thankful, 
at  the  outset,  for  his  efficient  assistance,  grew  more 
and  more  uneasy  at  his  tarrying.  On  their  part, 
therefore,  conversation  was  confined  to  monosyl- 
lables. 

But  the  volunteer  worker  in  clay  paid  no  heed 
to  their  reserve.  Nor  did  he  take  any  hints, 
however  plain,  about  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  or 
resent  it  when  the  dwarf,  making  his  appearance, 
told  him  bluntly,  and  in  a  suspicious,  domineering 
manner,  that  if  he  had  far  to  travel,  he  had  bet- 
ter start,  as  they  couldn't  keep  him  over  night. 

"Ah,  'tis  a  trifle  late,  youngster,  as  you  re- 
mark," he  mildly  responded.  "What  a  bright 
star  that  is  low  down  there  in  the  sky  !  I  don't 
much  wonder  ef  you  cud  give  the  real  name 
on  t. 

"  I  don't  care  about  the  star,"  retorted  the 
Hunchback,  wrathfuUy. 

"  When  did  you  state  you  immigrated  from  the 
east?"  asked  the  strange  caller,  seating  himself 
on  an  oak  stick. 

"Mother,"  whispered  the  Hunchback,  reenter- 
ing the  house,  "that  man  is  determined  to  stay 
here.  I  tried  to  send  him  away,  but  he  will  not 
budge  an  inch.  It's  the  very  fellow  who  came  to 
us  on  the  prairie,  when  you  called  Georgie." 


15a  THE   TOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"  So  I  suspected,"  she  replied,  anxiously. 

"We  shall  bar  the  door  against  him,"  said  aunt 
Esther,  firmly.  "Frankie,  you  manage  to  sl3^ 
the  boys  in,  and  we'll  fasten  the  chap  out." 

"  But  he'll  steal  the  horses,"  suggested  the 
dwarf. 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that,"  she  replied.  "  Mercy  ! 
he's  heard  every  word  !  "  she  instantly  exclaimed  ; 
for  near  the  entrance  was  the  subject  of  remark 
listening  to  their  conversation. 

The  demonstration  he  had  thus  received  that 
"  listeners  never  hear  any  good  of  themselves," 
did  not,  however,  disturb  his  equanimity. 

Passing,  uninvited,  the  forbidden  threshold, 
he  said,  with  unruffled  audacity,  holding  up  his 
begrimed  hands,  — 

^^  Ef  yon  will  have  the  kindness,  madam,  to 
obleege  me  with  a  dish  of  water  to  rense  off  this 
sile  !  I  jist  thought  I'd  give  yer  boys  a  lift  mor- 
tarin.'  Heavy  work  that  fer  youngsters  like 
them  ! " 

The  spinster,  with  stately  dignity,  poured  water 
in  a  basin,  and  giving  it  to  Georgie,  he  set  it  on 
a  bench  without  the  cabin. 

"A  cloth,  ma'am,  ef  yer  please,  ter  dry  me 
on,"  he  said,  putting  his  face  within  the  door. 

With  freezing  coldness  a  towel  was  held  to- 
wards him. 

**  Thank   ye,   ma'am,"  said   he,    rubbing   his 


A   STRANGE   VISITOR.  I53 

head  dry.  Then  producing  a  pocket  comb,  he 
removed  his  hat,  and  turning  his  back  on  the 
women,  proceeded  to  comb  his  hair,  remark- 
ing,— 

"  Don't  mind  me,  ma'am  ;  I  see  yer  tea  is  wait- 
in'.  An'  the  youngsters,  no  doubt,  are  hungry 
as  pigs." 

The  Willards  were,  at  this  stage  of  affairs,  con- 
vinced that  they  had  met  their  match.  On  two 
trunks,  arranged  side  by  side,  and  covered  with 
a  cloth,  waited  the  meal.  What  could  they 
do? 

"Perhaps  you  will  eat  with  us,"  said  Mrs.  Wil- 
lard,  faintly,  in  an  accent  intended  to  elicit  a 
refusal. 

"  Don't  care  ef  I  take  a  bite,"  brightly  replied 
the  repulsed  guest.  "  I  ain't  a  mite  bashful  among 
friends.  Haven't  tasted  sich  corn-dodgers  for  a 
month  of  Sundays.  And  that  butter  ts  a  little  the 
sweetest.  May  I  ask,  ma'am,  ef  it's  yer  own 
churnin'  ?  "  addressing  the  indignant  spinster. 

"No  I"  she  emphatically  replied. 

"  (9/* course  not !  Excuse  me,  ma'am.  I  might 
hev  known  from  yer  hands  —  so  white  an'  deli- 
cate, that  they'd  never  seen  much  tile." 

Aunt  Esther  haughtily  folded  her  hands  in  her 
apron,  and  lifted  her  eyebrows  scornfully. 

"Hands,  ma'am,"  he  calmly  continued,  "have 
a  marster  sight  of  meanin'  to  'em.    Here's  one,  for 


154  ^^^    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

instance,"  laying  his  own  on  the  table,  "thai 
was  constructed  for  'most  anything  —  shootin', 
choppin',  diggin',  and,  in  circumstances  of  dan- 
ger, say,  fightin'.  You  see,"  said  he,  closing 
his  fingers,  "it's  considerable  of  a  fist,  "^  I  do 
say  it." 

And  a  latent  threat  seemed  to  his  excited  audi- 
tors to  pervade  his  tone. 

"A  man  that's  got  to  knock  about  the  world 
has  ter  own  a  paw  that  can  thread  a  needle  or 
floor  an  elephant.  But  a  /«:</)/,"  ^  and  here  his 
voice  was  low  and  soft,  —  "  who  stays  ter  home, 
or  goes  to  dances,  or  keeps  school,  don't  need  a- 
power  of  bone  an'  sinew,  no  more'n  she  needs  a 
man's  thunderin'  lungs.  Show  me  a  person's 
paw,  male  or  female,  an'  ten  ter  one  I  ken  tell 
jist  what  natur  intended  him  fer. 

"An'  now,  ladies,"  he  observed,  rising,  "  ef  it 
will  be  no  offence,  I'll  jist  take  a  whif,  ter  keep 
oflT  the  ^/5pepsy." 

Then  seating  himself  in  a  corner  of  the  wide- 
mouthed  fireplace,  he  drew  some  tobacco,  and  a 
huge  knife,  with  a  poniard-shaped  blade,  from 
one  pocket,  then  an  oddly-carved  pipe  from 
another,  and  carefully  cut  up  the  weed,  and  fill- 
ing the  bowl,  inserted  the  slender  stem  between 
his  lips,  and  puffed  in  quiet. 

What  a  still  group  was  that,  that  evening  !  By 
the    flickering  fire-light  the  Willards  could  see 


THE   MAN   IN   THE    CHIMNEY   CORNER.       1 55 

that  the  dark  eye  of  their  unknown,  self-invited 
visitor  followed  all  their  movements,  w^hile  the 
uncertain  glow  that  fell  '  on  his  features  re- 
tiected  no  satisfactory  insight  into  his  true  char- 
acter. Contradictory  elements  predominated  in 
the  strongly-marked  countenance,  the  expression 
of  which  was  remarkably  under  the  control  of  its 
proprietor. 

At  one  moment  Mrs.  Willard  would  judge 
him  to  be  a  rough  but  honest  specimen  of  the 
Uncultured  frontiersman  ;  at  the  next,  a  shrewd 
villain,  who  had  assumed  the  pioneer  manner 
and  dialect  for  a  bad  purpose. 

Whatever  the  surmises  of  the  cabinites,  the 
mysterious  stranger  smoked  silently  on,  pouring, 
in  irregular  alternation,  the  smoke  out  first  in  a 
dense  volume  direct,  then  from  the  right  corner 
of  his  mouth  ;  next,  from  the  left,  and  lastly  in 
two  simultaneous  jets  from  his  nostrils ;  and  all 
this  in  the  easiest,  at-home  style  conceivable,  as 
if  he  of  the  pipe  was  owner  of  the  premises,  and 
smoking  in  that  particular  place  and  method  a 
household  institution. 

Nine  o'clock.  Ten  o'clock.  He  was  still 
there.  The  boys  stole  out  of  doors,  and  engaged 
in  earnest  consultation,  Georgie  standing  senti- 
nel where  he  could  report  if  the  man  left  his 
seat. 

"  I  shall  order  him  off,"  said  Frankie. 


156  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

And  with  knit  brow  and  threatening  eye,  ap- 
proaching the  intruder,  he  laid  his  puny  hand 
upon   the  man's  muscular  knee,  and  said,  — 

"Come,  mister,  be  starting;  we  can't  accom- 
modate you  here  !  " 

"Can't?"  inquired  the  smoker,  deliberately 
knocking  the  ashes  from  his  pipe ;  "  let's  see. 
Two  rooms.  One  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder,  and 
one  above.     I'll  jist  peep  inter  the  loft." 

And  calmly  crossing  the  apartment,  and  sup- 
porting himself  upon  the  strips  of  wood  nailed, 
in  lieu  of  a  real  ladder,  against  the  logs,  he 
peered  into  the  attic. 

"  Good  enough  for  a  king,"  said  he.  "  There 
are  just  six  of  us,  countin'  myself.  I've  known 
forty  ter  occupy  one  floor  in  a  smaller  cabin  than 
this.  No,  youngster,  you're  not  agwine  ter  set 
me  afloat  on  the  naked  prairie  at  this  ^^^reason- 
able  hour.  These.ladies  wouldn't  permit  sich  bar- 
barous proceedin',  pervided  /  was  willin',  which 
I  am  not.  'Twon't  answer  at  the  west  to  turn 
the  cold  shoulder  on  the  benighted  traveller  that 
way.  ^£y you're  willin',  ma'am,"  addressing  Mrs. 
Willard,  "I'll  jist  bring  in  my  blanket,  and  roll 
myself  up  in  it  under  the  ruff"!  " 

"We  are  not  prepared  —  "  began  she. 

"Never  mind  apologies,  ma'am.  I  kin  sleep 
beautiful  so.  All  I  wants  is  a  board  —  ef  it  isn't 
the  softest  that  ever  was  !  " 


THE    MAN   IN    THE    CHIMNEY    CORNER.       I57 

And  fetching  in  a  roll  of  blanketing,  he  tossed 
it  upon  the  boards  overhead,  saying,  — 

"I'll  jist  take  a  peep  inter  the  shed,  an'  see  if 
there's  a  corner  for  my  beast." 

And  loosening  his  splendid  steed  from  the  sap- 
ling to  which  it  had  been  haltered,  the  stranger 
led  him  to  the  little  stable,  followed  by  Ferdinand 
and  Georgie. 

"Why,  youngsters,"  said  he,  glancing  in, 
"  you  don't  turn  yer  critters  in  ^crnnscuous  —  do 
ye?  It's  a  born  mericle  that  they  hadn't  got  ter 
kickin',  and  spilte  one  t'other  afore  now.  We 
must  fix  some  stalls  ter  keep  them  separate.  Got 
an  axe?" 

Georgie  brought  one. 

With  singular  handiness  and  celerity  he  hewed 
some  thick  poles  flatted  at  both  ends,  and  with  the 
strong  nails  from  the  wagon  pouch,  also  carried 
to  him  by  Georgie,  he  constructed  three  rude 
stalls  for  the  horses,  and  tying  his  in  the  one  far- 
thest from  the  door,  the  brothers  secured  theirs  in 
the  remaining  places. 

It  had  been  aunt  Esther's  custom,  before  re- 
tiring, to  read  aloud  a  portion  of  Scripture,  and 
then  the  family  repeated  in  unison  the  Lord's 
Prayer.  When  the  trio  returned,  after  stating 
their  habit,  she  opened  her  gilt-edged  pocket 
Bible,  and  read  the  fourth  Psalm.  As  she  con- 
cluded the  last  verse,  "  I  will  both  lay  me  down 


158  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

in  peace,  and  sleep ;  for  thou,  Lord,  only  makes* 
me  dwell  in  safety,"  "There's  no  book  like  that,'' 
remarked  their  guest ;  and  falling  to  his  knees,  he 
listened  devoutly  as  the  divinely-given  petitions 
ascended. 

"  I  shall  sleep  beautiful  after  that  prayer,"  said 
he,  as  they  arose  ;  "  it  sounds  natral." 

Whether  he  was  sincere  or  not  in  what  he  said, 
it  is  certain  that  the  afflicted  and  lonely  house- 
hold was  soothed  and  uplifted  by  their  simple, 
unaffected  service.  On  the  solitary  prairie,  far 
from  human  succor,  their  hearts  instinctively 
turned  for  protection  to  the  ever-present  Being 
who  neither  slumbers  nor  sleeps.  And  the  two 
women  retired,  serenely  committing  themselves 
to  the  loving  care  of  the  infinite  Helper  and  Pre- 
server. 

How  much,  however,  their  returning  compo- 
sure was  due  to  the  reverential  deportment  at 
prayers  of  their  strange  guest,  I  cannot  decide. 
But  Mrs.  Willard  whispered  to  her  sister,  — 

"  I  am  afraid  we  have  been  too  suspicious  of 
that  man.  Did  you  notice  that  he  knelt  with 
us?" 

But  aunt  Esther  doubtingly  shook  her  head. 

As  for  the  boys,  they  did  not  ascend  to  their 
mattresses  in  the  cabin  garret,  but  camped  beside 
their  mother's  bed,  Ferdinand  with  an  axe,  and 
Georgia  with  the  hatchet,   while  the  dwarf  sat 


THE    MAN    IN   THE    CHIMNEY    CORNER.       I^Q 

in  a  dim  corner,  screened  by  trunks,  with  Ferdi- 
nand's gun  ready  loaded  and  capped.  The  three 
had  resolved  to  watch  till  day.  But  soon  the 
boarder  fell  a  snoring  in  so  masterly  and  sys- 
tematic a  style,  that  Georgie  drowsily  whis- 
pered to  Ferdie,  — 

"  Guess  you  won't  hear  the  partridges  drum  to- 
night ! " 

"Yes,  I  hear  one  now,"  replied  Ferdie;  "he's 
on  that  man's  nose  !  " 

And  after  a  convulsive  giggle,  they  both 
dropped  asleep. 

But  the  Hunchback  kept  guard. 


l6o  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


^^  CHAPTER  XIV. 

SECOND  IMPRESSIONS.  AUNT  ESTHER  AND  THE 

PLOUGHMEN. 

The  Willards  rested  undisturbed,  save  that, 
semi-occasionally,  a  climax  snore  from  the  attic 
lodger  caused  momentary  disquiet.  But  thunder 
does  not  kill,  neither  does  snoring  ;  and  there  is  a 
frank  outspokenness  about  the  latter  quite  reas- 
suring under  certain  circumstances.  Certainly, 
so  long  as  a  man  suspected  of  fell  design  so 
loudly  proclaims  his  somnolence,  so  long  you  feel 
secure  from  harm  at  his  hands.  And  Mr.  Lodg- 
er blew  bugle-blasts  of  peace  till  the  glowing 
east  announced  the  empire  of  darkness  over- 
thrown—  for  a  few  hours. 

With  composed  and  serious  mien,  the  wayfarer 
descended  from  the  low-roofed  chamber,  and 
kind  Mrs.  Willard,  as  he  bade  her  "  good  morn- 
ing," marvelled  that  they  had  been  such  cowards. 

"  Madam,"  said  he,  "  I  owe  you  an  apology  for 
my  rudeness  last  evening.  Here  on  the  frontier 
the  latch-string  always  hangs  out,  and  the  travel- 
ler is  made  welcome.     You  are  not  used  to  such 


SECOND    IMPRESSIONS.  l6l 

unquestioning  hospitality.  I  forgot  to  make  al- 
lowance for  the  fact,  and  was  irritated  at  your 
cold,  New  England  ways. 

"  My  name  is  Simmons.  I  hail  from  New 
York,  where  I  own  a  snug  property.  Am  what 
is  termed  an  old  bachelor ;  not  from  choice,  but 
never  chanced  to  meet  just  the  person  I  fancied. 
Took  a  notion  to  the  frontier.  Have  spent  a  year 
or  two  riding  round.  Think  I  shall  open  a  large 
farm,  stock  it,  build  a  comfortable  house,  if  I 
can  find  a  woman  of  the  right  stamp  to  look  after 
me  and  the  establishment,  —  none  of  your  fly- 
away butterflies,  but  a  sensible,  pious  lady,  in 
whom  a  man  can  depend  for  comfort  and  happi- 
ness. 

"  There  you  have  my  story.  And  now  I've 
been  thinking,  as  your  boys  are  young,  and  green 
in  pioneering,  and  my  horse  is  overdriven,  that 
if  they'll  let  the  creature  stand  where  he  is  in  the 
shed,  and  cut  a  handful  of  grass  for  him,  and  give 
him  water,  just  as  if  'twas  their  own,  I'll  return 
the  compliment  with  interest." 

The  two  women  critically  regarded  their  guest 
while  he  spoke.  To  how  much,  better  advantage 
he  appeared  by  morning  than  by  firelight  I  They 
began  to  feel  annoyed  at  the  offensive  distrust  of 
him.  His  language,  too,  how  greatly  improved  ! 
How  much  there  is  in  one's  manner ! 

Mrs.  Willard  did  not  at  once  reply. 
n 


l62  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"  Believe  me,  I  will  not  obtrude  on  your  quiet. 
I  shall  not  be  here  much  myself,  but  when  on 
the  ground  will  gladly  aid  the  lads  in  getting 
settled.  My  experience  ought  to  be  of  service  to 
them,  and  as  for  remuneration  for  the  care  of 
self  and  beast,  I'll  see  that  you  don't  lose  by 
the  operation." 

The  arrangement  was  entered  into.  Mr.  Sim- 
mons, leaving  his  handsome  horse,  and  crossing 
the  prairie  afoot,  was  lost  to  view. 

"  1  hate  his  looks,"  said  the  dwarf,  "  and  hope 
he'll  die  or  the  Indians  will  capture  him,  so  that 
he'll  never  show  his  face  in  our  house  again." 

"Wh}^  Frankie,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Willard,  re- 
provingly, "  what  a  wicked  wish  !  I  am  sure  the 
more  I  see  of  Mr.  Simmons,  the  better  he  ap- 
pears.    Doesn't  he,  Esther?" 

"  He's  hard  to  understand,"  replied  the  spin- 
ster. 

At  twilight  of  the  third  day  ensuing,  Mr.  Sim- 
mons returned. 

"  Ferdie,"  said  he,  familiarly,  "  I  have  a  capital 
idea  for  you  boys.  It  is  too  late  in  the  season, 
you  know,  to  plant,  but  it  is  magnificent  weather 
for  haying.  I'd  like  a  little  exercise  at  it  myself. 
Suppose  we  spend  several  days  working  up  the 
grass — untold  acres  wait  for  the  scythe.  It's  easy 
making  it  in  this  dry  Minnesota  air,  and  these 
ceaseless    breezes  —  cut  and  stack  it  the  same 


SECOND    IMPRESSIONS.  163 

hour  almost.  Why,  your  sons,  Mrs.  Willard, 
might  put  up  Vons  of  it ;  and  in  the  fall  and  win- 
ter, the  immigrants,  flocking  in  too  late  to  hay, 
would  buy  of  you,  and  pay  all  you  asked.  They 
must  have  it  for  their  cattle  ;  don't  you  see?  And 
I'd  rather  give  the  lads  a  lift  at  it  than  not." 

"A  most  excellent  idea,"  said  Mrs.  Willard. 

"  I've  lugged  a  scythe  ten  miles  on  purpose,* 
he  continued.  "  Here  it  is ; "  and  he  took  it  in 
from  the  side  of  the  cabin,  against  which  it  leaned. 
"  What  say  for  a  raid  on  the  prairie  grass  to-mor- 
row, boys? —  if  your  mother  will  let  me  lunch  on 
her  nice  corn-cake,  and  stretch  my  legs  on  a 
board  in  the  attic." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  that  lady,  with  warmth. 
**  Ferdie,  some  haying-tools  came  with  the  wagon 
—  did  they  not?" 

"  Yes,  mother,"  he  answered ;  "  two  rakes,  a 
large  and  small  hayfork,  and  one  scythe." 

"  How  much  will  hay  probably  command  next 
fall  ?  "  inquired  the  mother. 

"  It  will  be  low,  of  course,  compared  with  east- 
ern prices ;  but  the  grass  here  grows  wild,  and  it 
makes  into  hay  vastly  easier  and  faster.  Your 
boys  will  dispose  of  it  readily  at  from  five  to  ten 
dollars  per  ton,  and  they  can  stack  two  tons  a 
day,  easily." 

"  That's  the  ticket,"  said  Georgie,  turning  a 
summersault  from  the  doorstep,  where  he  sat  lis- 


164  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

tening.  "We  can  pa}^  for  our  claim  that  way. 
I'm  in  for  it,  for  one.      Hurrah  for  prairie  hay  ! " 

Mr.  Simmons's  suggestion  was  a  good  one,  and 
commended  itself  even  to  calculating  aunt  Es- 
ther. 

And  next  morning  betimes,  the  pleasant  and 
familiar  sound  of  the  mower  sharpening  his 
scythe  resounded  on  the  proximate  prairie. 

Mr.  Simmons,  with  amazing  ease,  yet  with 
hurry,  cut  great  smooth  swaths.  Ferdie  im- 
proved as  he  practised,  abiding  by  Mr.  Simmons's 
example  and  instructions.  Willie  and  Frankie 
handled  the  rakes.  Soon  gigantic  hay-mounds 
dotted  the  shorn  plain,  the  man  day  by  day  stim- 
ulating the  energies  of  the  boys  by  his  own  dis- 
interested efforts,  and  by  assuring  them  that  all 
the  profits  were  to  be  theirs. 

One  noon,  as  they  reclined  eating  their  dinner, 
Mr.  Simmons  observed,  — 

"  Boys,  I  move  we  vary  our  work  this  after- 
noon. I'm  getting  tired  of  that  dark  attic.  Be- 
sides, the  roof  is  so  low  that  I  can't  get  into  bed 
without  thumping  my  head  against  the  rafters. 
Let  us  cut  some  light  logs,  and  build  a  little  hut 
between  here  and  the  cabin  for  me  to  occupy 
nights,  and  to  store  the  tools  in,  and  save  carry- 
ing them  so  far." 

So  Ferdie  and  Georgie  fetched  axes,  and  a 
miniature  cabin  arose,  which,  from  that  time  for- 
ward, Mr.  Simmons  slept  in. 


SECOND    IMPRESSIONS.  165 

The  haying  went  on  prosperously,  Mr.  Sim- 
mons working  with  the  boys,  or  omitting  it,  as  he 
chose,  but  when  in  the  field  directing  all  that  was 
done.     He  proved  an  efficient  overseer. 

He  now  frequently  called  in  at  the  Willard 
cabin  for  conversation  with  the  ladies,  his  many 
thoughtful  suggestions  and  apt  offices  causing 
them  to  depend  somewhat  on  his  aid.  Towards 
Miss  Esther  he  became  specially,  but  unostenta- 
tiously, attentive.  And  when,  at  times,  he  dwelt 
on  the  loneliness  of  his  bleak  bachelorhood,  and 
pictured  his  idea  of  wifely  qualifications,  occa- 
sionally the  blood  would  mount  to  her  cheeks, 
as  she  fancied  he  had  her  in  mind  for  the  ori- 
ginal. 

"  I  declare,  I  believe  the  old  bach  is  dead  in 
love  with  you,  sis,"  Mrs.  Willard  would  assert, 
after  he  had  left. 

At  which  insinuation  aunt  Esther's  ear-drops 
would  indignantly  vibrate,  as  she  tossed  her  head, 
ejaculating,  — 

"  What  presumption  !  " 

There  was,  however,  one  kindness  that  Mr. 
Simmons  did  aunt  Esther  that  extorted  her  ap- 
preciative notice.  She  had  —  as  who  has  not?  — 
one  infirmity  :  she  was  vain  of  her  clear  com- 
plexion —  a  charm  she  feared  she  should  lose  in 
the  gloomy,  begrimed  loggery. 

"  I  shall  be  black  as  Egypt,"  she  sighed  one 


l66  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

day,  as  the  gallant  "bach"  entered.  "It's  as 
dark  and  smoky  here  as  Tartarus  !  " 

Shortly  after  Mr.  Simmons  remarked,  — 

"Ladies,  I've  been  on  a  voyage  of  discovery, 
and  have  hit  on  a  chance  to  buy  a  cooking-stove 
and  some  glass  windows,  cheap.  Now,  you  could 
have  an  aperture  cut  for  a  window,  and  one 
fitted  in  very  easily  —  Ferdie  and  I  could  do  it, 
as  to  that.  A  temporary  addition  might  also  be 
built  against  the  cabin,  near  the  door,  to  put  the 
stove  in  till  cool  weather." 

"  What  would  they  cost?  "  eagerly  asked  Mrs. 
Willard. 

"  Not  over  eighteen  dollars.  The  stove  is 
second-hand." 

She  did  not  answer,  for  she  felt  too  poor  to 
spare  the  mone}^  But  when  her  eyes  were 
turned,  aunt  Esther  followed  the  bachelor  out  of 
the  cabin,  and  inquired,  dignifiedly,  — 

"  When  could  the  stove  and  windows  be  pro- 
cured?" 

"To-morrow,"  was  the  reply. 

"  The  money  is  ready  when  they  arrive,"  she 
said.  "  Come  to  me  for  it ;  but  let  it  remain  a 
secret  between  you  and  me." 

Immediately,  to  the  astonishment  of  Mrs.  Wil- 
lard, the  boys  and  the  bachelor  attacked  the 
dwelling.  They  were  chiselling,  pounding, 
thumping,  sawing,  in  a  most  unaccountable  man- 


AUNT   ESTHER   ANB   THE    PLOUGHMEN.       1 67 

ner,  the  entire  afternoon,  till  at  length  daylight 
streamed  into  the  log  house  through  a  civilized 
glass  window,  and  the  tea-kettle  sang  a  song  of 
steam  in  a  veritable  stove. 

Nevertheless,  the  dwarf  was  still  sullen  towards 
the  benevolent  Mr.  Simmons.  And  aunt  Es- 
ther, despite  his  clever  compliments  and  kind- 
nesses to  the  household,  shook  distrustingly, 
though  less  confidently,  her  well-poised  head. 
But  with  Mrs.  Willard,  Ferdie,  and  Georgie,  the 
bachelor  was  immensely  popular. 

"What  is  that?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Willard,  a 
week  later,  as  stentorian  shouting  smote  her  ear 
from  the  direction  of  the  haystacks. 

Georgie  hurried  round  the  grove,  and  more 
quickly  hurried  back,  his  blue  eyes  wide  with 
wonder,  reporting  that  two  men  were  there  with 
a  "  tremenjous  "  big  team,  ploughing. 

"  On  our  claim?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Georgie. 

Mrs.  Willard  and  aunt  Esther,  with  the  three 
boys,  went  to  see  for  themselves.  Sure  enough, 
in  front  of  the  hut  in  which  considerate  Mr.  Sim- 
mons performed  nocturnal  music,  was  yoke  on 
yoke  of  oxen,  drawing  a  mammoth  plough 
through  the  virgin  sod.  It  was  an  animating 
spectacle;  but  why  were  they  ploughing  there? 
and  by  whose  order? 


l68  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

The  lads  hastened  to  ascertain. 

"  It's  another  of  Mr.  Simmons's  generous  sur- 
prises," said  confiding  Mrs.  Willard.  "  He's 
having  that  land  broken  up  for  the  boys.  He  is 
a  good  soul,  there  !  " 

"  Mister,"  addressing  the  man  of  the  whip,  "who 
sent  you  to  plough  on  our  piece?  " 

"Hey?"  blurted  the  driver,  beginning  a  new 
furrow. 

When  he  reached  the  end  of  it,  Ferdie  repeated 
the  question. 

"Git  out  of  the  way,"  he  roared,  flourishing 
the  cruel  lash,  "or  you'll  git  this  round  yer  legs  I" 

Ferdinand  retreated  in  consternation,  and  re- 
pairing to  his  mother,  stated  the  brutal  reception 
he  had  met. 

"  I'll  inquire,"  said  aunt  Esther,  her  eyes  flash- 
ing ;  "  they'll  not  be  impudent  to  me  !  " 

The  correctness  of  this  conclusion,  however, 
appeared  doubtful  as  she  neared  the  ploughmen. 
Their  vociferous  "  gee-haw  "-ing  and  terrible 
oaths  discovered  a  determination,  like  Jefl?' Davis, 
to  be  "  let  alone."  But  Miss  Esther  advanced, 
with  undaunted  intrepidity,  directly  in  the  path 
of  the  team,  and  there  she  stood  immovable  as  a 
granite  boulder.  The  catde  stopped,  the  men 
ceased  swearing,  at  the  unexpected  interference. 

"  Sir,"  said  she  to  the  teamster,  "  I  wish  to  be 
informed  by  whose  authority  you  are  here." 


AUNT    ESTHER   AND    THE    PLOUGHMEN.        169 

"  Wall,  I  ruther  suspects,"  returned  the  man, 
"  it's  by  the  authority  of  him  as  owns  this  strip  o* 
land." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  Wall,  miss,  it's  the  person  what  occurpies 
that  ere  shanty,  and  forked  up  those  ere  stacks 
o'  hay  !  " 

"  O,  youVe  made  a  mistake,"  she  observed. 
"  We  built  that  hut,  and  made  that  hay." 

"  Didn't  no  one  else  have  a  hand  in  it?  " 

"A  man  who  boarded  with  us  helped  —  a  Mr. 
Simmons." 

"  I  don't  know  no  Mr.  Simmons ;  nor  you 
nuther,  as  to  that.  But  the  individual  what  oc- 
curpies that  shanty  employed  us  to  turn  over  this 
soil,  and  we're  just  a  going  to  do  it.  Gee  !  git 
up!" 

"  Sir,"  interposed  the  lady,  stepping  to  his  side 
and  laying  her  white  hand  on  his  bare,  brown 
wrist,  ^' you  are  a  man,  and  /am  a  woman,  and  of 
course  you  are  gentleman  enough  to  hear  what 
I've  got  to  say.  Come  this  w^ay  a  moment,"  she 
added,  authoritatively ;  and,  ashamed  to  refuse, 
he  followed  her  to  the  Willard  cabin. 

"  Here's  where  we  live,"  said  she.  "  Which 
has  been  the  longest  built,  this  house  or  that  hut, 
in  wiiicli  the  one  who  sent  you  here  slept  a  few 
nights?" 

"  This,  in  course,"  he  answered. 


170  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"  Then  what  right  had  that  fellow  —  our  guest 
—  to  call  this  land  his,  and  send  you  to  break  it 
up?" 

"  Have  you  preempted,  miss?  " 

"  Not  yet." 

"  Well,  miss,  I'm  hired  to  do  this  small  job,  an' 
I  shell  do  it.  Can't  afford  to  lose  the  pay.  All 
is,  ye'll  have  ter  be  spry,  or  you'll  have  yer  claim 
jumped  — that's  all !  " 

"Jumped  !     I  don't  understand  you." 

"  Well,  you're  mighty  green,  then.  It's  done 
over  and  often.  You  see,  the  one  what  gits  fust 
into  the  Land  Office,  and  swears  he's  got  a  cabin, 
and  some  breaking  on  land  what's  unpaid  for, 
gits  it.  Now,  that's  what  this  ere  Mr.  Shimmey 
■ —  or  whatsomdever's  his  name  —  is  arter,  you 
bet !  "  and  her  blunt  informant  turned  to  go. 

"  One  more  question,"  said  she.  "  You  asserted 
Ihat  he  owned  that  hay.  What  do  you  know 
about  it?" 

"  Nothing  much,"  was  the  answer ;  **  only  that 
T  heard  this  ere  man  engage  it  to  Edmonds  at 
three  dollars  a  ton.  Edmonds  is  buying  up  all 
he  can  lay  paws  on,  to  hold  agin  it  gits  higher !  " 


ONE  SWALLOW  DOES  NOT  MAKE  A  SUMMER.  171 


CHAPTER    XV. 

ONE    SWALLOW  DOES    NOT    MAKE    A   SUMMER.  — • 
TRIBULATIONS    OF    A   FAT    MAN. 

"  I  SHALL  ask  him,  as  sure  as  he  sets  fool  inside 
this  cabin  again ; "  and  aunt  Esther's  cheeks 
glowed. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  said  the  dwarf,  "  that  if  he 
intends  to  jump  our  claim,  he'd  be  fool  enough  to 
tell  you  beforehand  ?  " 

"  I  shall  never  believe  that  Mr.  Simmons  is 
tricky  and  dishonest,"  affirmed  the  charitable  Mrs. 
Willard.  "  Why,  I  have  been  much  instructed, 
and  benefited,  —  I  hope  I  have  a  right  to  say, — 
by  his  excellent  sentiments.  If  I  am  not  de- 
ceived, he's  a  truly  godly  person.  And  I  still 
think  that  he  sent  that  breaking  team  here  as  a 
generous  kindness  to  us.  It  was  a  surprise  — 
he's  so  delicate  about  intruding  himself.  You  are 
unreasonable  towards  him,  Esther,  while  he  wor- 
ships the  ground  you  tread  on  ;  and  he  is  doing 
these  kindnesses  in  order  to  overcome  your  preju- 
dice, and  get  you  to  look  with  more  favor  on  his 
suit." 


173  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Aunt  Esther  grew  pale  with  anger,  but  kept 
her  firmly-set  mouth  closed. 

"  And  you^  Frankie,  are  much  to  blame  for 
your  aunt's  coolness.  You'd  be  suspicious  of  an 
angel ;  and  you  talked  so  hard  against  Mr.  Sim- 
mons, that  she  has  drank  into  your  spirit.  It  is 
ungrateful,  after  all  he's  done  to  help  us.  I'm 
sure  w^e  need  help  out  here  on  the  prairie." 

"  Well,  you'll  find  out,"  hotly  piped  the  Hunch- 
back, "  after  he's  got  our  splendid  claim  !  But, 
mother,"  he  added,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  it 
isn't  best  for  me,  or  aunt  Esther,  or  any  of  us,  to 
let  him  know  we  suspect  him,  for  that  would  put 
him  on  his  guard.  And  if  he  does  wish  for  the 
land,  he  would  hurry  and  preempt  it.  We  must 
treat  him  well,  but  watch  —  watch  —  keeping  our 
eyes  open  when  he  supposes  they  are  shut." 

"That's  it,  Frankie,"  joined  in  aunt  Esther; 
*' we  must  conceal  our  suspicions,  and  unravel  his 
schemes,  if  we  can.  But  there  he  is,  now ! " 
And  flustered  Mrs.  Willard  became  over-busy  in 
her  housework,  and  self-poised  aunt  Esther  re- 
turned to  her  sewing. 

"  How  do  you  all  do?  "  he  inquired,  in  an  ac- 
cent of  sincere  interest,  and  not  in  the  careless 
tone  of  a-commonplace. 

"  Quite  well,  I  thank  you,"  responded  Mrs. 
Willard,  intent  on   her  baking. 

"Pleased  to  hear  it.  By  the  way,  did  soma, 
men  call  here  to  do  a  little  breaking  ? " 


ONE  SWALLOW  DOES  NOT  MAKE  A  SUMMER.    1 73 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  ceasing  to  mould  the 
dough,  and,  regarding  him  with  transparent  anx- 
iety, instantly  added,  "  they  said  you  sent  them.'' 

"  Happy  to  learn  that  they  were  so  prompt. 
You  see,  by  turning  over  the  sod  that  it  may  lay 
exposed  to  the  weather  and  the  frost,  it  will  be 
nicely  rotted  by  spring.  Fortunately  I  ran  across 
that  team  while  I  was  away ;  and  as  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  hire  one  for  love  or  money,  —  espe- 
cially for  a  small  job,  —  there  is  so  much  prairie 
to  be  broken  up,  I  persuaded  the  fellows  to  put 
in  their  plough  for  a  little  strip  —  only  three  acres. 
The  boys  will  want  a  garden  next  season." 

Good  Mrs.  Willard's  expressive  countenance 
displayed  the  pleasure  she  felt  at  his  vindication 
of  himself;  and  to  help  him  out,  she  said,  not- 
withstanding the  dwarf's  admonitory  frown,  — 

"  The  boys  thought  it  strange  you  told  those 
men  that  this  claim  is  yours." 

"  So  I  did,"  he  explained,  lightly  laughing. 
"You'll  set  that  down  as  a  fib,  I'm  afraid,  and 
mark  me  out  of  your  books.  But  they  were  full 
of  work,  and  I  was  obliged  to  make  out  a  strong 
plea  to  get  them  here  at  all,  and  of  course  I  had 
to  become  personally  responsible  for  the  contract. 
Men  don't  care  to  do  business  with  women,  and 
these  chaps  knew  nothing  about  Mrs.  Willard 
and  sister,  —  estimable  ladies  as  they  are,  and 
abundantly  able  to  pay." 


T74  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"  How  much  is  their  bill  ?  "  tartly  inquired  aunt 
Esther,  taking  out  her  purse. 

"  A  mere  trifle,"  replied  Mr.  Simmons  —  ''  only 
twelve  dollars.  Another  time  will  answer  just 
as  well.  Ferdie  and  Willie,  I  wish  to  show  you 
about  the  breaking:.-' 

"There,"  said  he,  as  they  reached  the  three 
acres,  "this  spot  lies  low,  and  I  chose  it  partly 
because,  being  moist,  it  will  stand  a  drought, 
should  there  be  one  next  summer.  It's  no  harm 
to  be  sure  of  one  crop,  at  least.  This  will  be  your 
garden.  You  will  have  to  fence  it,  to  shut  out 
stray  cattle.  And,  by  the  by,  I  might  spend  a 
day  or  two  helping  in  this,  better  than  not,  just 
now.     Suppose  we  go  at  it  this  afternoon." 

"Agreed  !  "  cried  the  lads,  as  enthusiastic  now 
as  condemnatory  before. 

"  If,  now,  Frankie  was  as  smart  and  bright  as 
his  brothers,"  continued  the  bachelor,  "it  wouldn't 
take  us  long  to  get  out  the  rails  and  lay  them  up. 
Pity  he's  so  helpless  and  odd." 

"I  guess  dinner  is  about  ready,"  said  Ferdie; 
"  Georgie,  you  run  and  see." 

The  lad  quickly  reappeared  to  call  them.  And 
as  the  little  family  surrounded  the  rude  table, 
Mrs.  Willard  hesitatingly  said,  — 

"  Mr.  Simmons,  perhaps  you  would  say  grace 
before  we  eat." 

"If  you  desire,   ma'am,"  he   replied,  and   re- 


ONE  SV/ ALLOW  DOES  NOT  MAKE  A  SUMMER.    1 75 

peated  a  brief  form  of  petition  and  thanksgiving, 
which  so  mellowed  Mrs.  Willard's  sensitive  heart, 
that  she  fairly  loaded  her  guest's  plate  with  the 
choicest  of  the  food,  and  was  concerned  that  his 
vigorous  "appetite  was  so  poor." 

Their  guest  ate  rapidly,  and  precipitately  ris- 
ing, excused  himself,  saying,  — 

"  Boys,  I'll  get  things  ready,  and  when  you  are 
through  eating,  we'll  go  to  work." 

Mrs.  Willard  looked  from  the  window  after 
him  till  assured  he  was  out  of  hearing,  then  ges- 
ticulating impressively  with  a  fork,  she  said, — 

"Now,  Frankie  and  Esther,  I  trust  you  are 
satisfied.  You  have  doubted  and  slandered  a 
pious  and  true  man." 

"Frankie,"  she  interrupted  herself  to  scream, 
"  come  back  and  finish  your  dinner  !  " 

But  the  dwarf  disappeared  behind  a  corner  of 
the  log  stable. 

"Mr.  Swtaller!" 

That  fat  worthy  was  venturing  very  carefully 
to  "  work  his  passage  "  from  the  immigrant  wagon 
to  terra  Jirma,  and,  at  the  inopportune  instant 
when  the  shrew's  shrill  and  imperative  summons 
pierced  his  ear,  was  mentally  and  physically  con- 
triving how  to  descend  safely,  with  a  strapping 
girl  of  five  under  one  arm,  and  elsewise,  a  nurse 
bottle,  a  basket  of  eggs,  a  flask  of  wine,  a  band- 


176  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

box  containing  his  wife's  bonnet,  and  last,  but 
not  least,  himself. 

''Mr,  Swallerr' 

The  rotund  ^nd  encumbered  gentleman  alluded 
to  was  peculiarly  situated.  The  horses  were  un- 
easy, the  flies  pertinacious,  the  ponderous  wagon 
starting,  just  as  he  essayed,  with  one  foot  on  the 
wheel,  to  make  land.  ,  There  was  an  awful  and 
untimely  lurch  of  the  vehicle.  The  eggs  slid  in 
succession  "to  smash,"  and,  stooping  to  catch 
them,  his  unwieldy  legs  became  entangled,  and, 
by  a  remarkable  feat,  considering  his  weight,  he 
found  himself  on  the  ground,  bandbox  beneath 
him,  child  sitting  on  his  nose,  and  milk  running 
into  his  eyes. 

The  spectators  to  this  extremely  unique  and 
striking  tableau  were  the  Willard  household, 
and  —  Mrs,  Swallow. 

The  flustered  and  perspiring  Mr.  Swallow  gath- 
ered together  his  lower  extremities,  sat  up,  and 
gazed  around,  as  well  as  cherub  and  milk  would 
permit.  The  former,  its  unusually  large  mouth 
stretched  miraculously,  yelled  "particular  mur- 
der." 

"  Mr.  Swaller  !  when  are  you  going  to  bring 
that  poor  lamb  into  the  cabin  ?  There  !  you've 
stuck  3^our  thumb  in  its  eye  —  put  it  out,  of 
course,  and  no  doctor  to  run  for.  On  my  Paris 
hat,  too.     I  shall  be  a  fright  now.     After  all  the 


TRIBULATIONS    OF   A   FAT    MAN.  177 

pains  IVe  taken  to  bring  it  all  the  way  from  the 
east,  that's  what  I  get  for  it.  Don't  put  your  foot 
into  the  rest  of  the  eggs.  You  know  I  can't  exist 
without  ^gg  and  wine.  Broke  the  bottle,  eh  ! 
Here,  darling,"  —  to  the  child, — "come  to  me. 
What  would  you  do  if  your  poor  sick  mother 
was  to  die?  Who'd  care  for  you  then,  darling? 
To  think  that  the  last  born  of  my  first  husband 
should  be  filched  out  of  a  wagon  at  the  risk  of 
its  innocent  life  !  There,  h-u-s-h^  sweet.  Here's 
some  more  candy  for  you." 

And  the  stout,  elderly  lady  tightly  clasped  the 
sugar-sucking  angel,  alternately  lavishing  kisses 
on  its  bedaubed  mouth,  and  darting  sharp  sen- 
tences at  her  unfortunate  "  lord." 

"  Mr.  Swaller,  I  can't  go  immigrating  any 
more,  and  I  wont.  Came  to  save  my  life?  So 
you  did.  But  I'd  rather  die  east  than  live  west. 
Creeping  along,  like  a  sick  snail,  in  a  nasty  emi- 
grant wagon  !  Jolt,  jolt;  rumble,  rumble;  drag, 
drag.  You're  welcome  to  cure  my  lungs,  but  you 
shan't  do  it  on  the  prairies  !  Nothing  but  grass, 
grass,  everlasting  grass,  as  if  we  were  bosses, 
and  not  folks.  I'm  no  better,  and  you  can  see  it 
if  you're  a  mind  to.  " 

Mr.  Swallow  listened  to  this  sententious  but  rap- 
idly-delivered harangue  with  a  meekness  and 
long-suffering  worthy  of  commendation.  It  was 
evident  he  realized  hi«  position  and  responsibili- 
12 


178  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERT?. 

ties  as  a  ^"^ family  man  ;  "  and  though  it  was  plain 
he'  was  not  indifferent  to  the  speeches  of  his 
"  better  half,"  he  bore  the  inflictions  as  if  he  com- 
prehended that  such  was  his  duty.  He  was  used, 
but  not  wholly  hardened,  to  it. 

Mrs.  Swallow,  as  she  has  already  informed  us, 
was  an  invalid  —  a  martyr  to  real,  or  fancied, 
pulmonary  difficulties.  And  the  doctors,  having 
long  been  harassed  with  her  complaints ^  and  ex- 
hausted the  Materia  Medica  in  endeavoring  to 
effect  a  cure,  had  rid  themselves  of  their  patient 
by  recommending  a  change  of  cHmate.  And 
Mr.  Swallow,  in  accordance  with  medical  sugges- 
tions and  his  wife's  appeals,  was  journeying  with 
her  in  Prairie-land. 

Recovering  from  his  mishap,  the  dutiful  hus- 
band hurried  at  once  to  load  his  arms  with  domes- 
tic goods,  and  to  soothe  the  partner  of  his  joys, 
when,  as  overburdened  and  panting  he  approached 
the  cabin  door  where  sat  his  afflicted  spouse, 
"  darling "  suddenly  sprang  from  her  mother's 
embrace,  and  laying  hold  of  his  coat-tail,  violently 
jerked  upon  it,  spitefully  kicking  his  shins  the 
while  with  her  patent  copper  toes. 

"Mr.  Swaller,  see  how  you've  hurt  that  poor 
lamb's  feelings  —  that's  why  she  acts  so.  And 
no  wonder — -pitching  her  out  of  the  wagon  at  the 
risk  of  breaking  her  innocent  neck.  Darling, 
come  to  your  mother.'* 


TRIBULATIONS    OF   A    FAT    MAN.  1 79 

But  darling  pulled  the  more  desperately  at  the 
coat,  Mr.  Swallow  straining  to  press  ahead, 
when,  lo,  the  garment  parted,  and  "  darling  "  was 
precipitated  backward  upon  the  ground,  and  Mr. 
Swallow  forward  into  the  cabin,  a  storm  of  toilet 
utensils,  wearing  apparel,  food,  a  dish  of  mo- 
lasses, and  an  umbrella  and  parasol,  showering 
upon  his  loving  helpmeet. 

"  You've  done  it  now,  Mr.  Swaller  !  Do  you 
think  my  head  is  made  of  iron,  that  a  stone  pot 
won't  crack  it?  I  do  believe  you'll  be  the  death 
of  me,  and  thai  child ^  yet.  What  would  vs\y  first 
husband  say,  ir  he  knew  how  his  last  born  was 
treated !  But  I  shan't  and  I  won't  go  emigrating 
an  inch  further,  lungs  or  no  lungs.  I'll  die  in  a 
galloping  consumption  before  I'll  creep  all  over 
the  earth  in  a  frightful  emigrant  wagon.  There 
are  snakes  here,  too.  You  need'nt  tell  me  there 
ain't.  You  saw  one ;  and  /  saw  one.  A  nasty 
big  rattlesnake.  What  if  he'd  stung  that  child 
with  his  horrid-sounding  rattles.  Ma'am,"  ad- 
dressing Mrs.  Willard,  ^^  can't  we  stay  here  to- 
night? Yes,  we  can,"  answering  her  own  ques- 
tion ;  "  and  to-morrer  them  bosses  will  turn  tail 
about,  and  we'll  jolt,  jolt,  creep,  creep,  drag, 
drag,  back  to  the  east — lungs  or  no  lungs.  They 
said  'twas  a  climate  here.  Climate  !  It's  blowed 
like  a  harricane  for  more'n  a  week.  And  it's  thun- 
dered for  a  whole  hour ;   and  it'll  keep  on  thun- 


l8o  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

dering  for  a  month  without  stopping  to  breathe, 
for  what  I  know.      Climate  !  " 

Mr.  Swallow,  assisted  by  Ferdie  and  Willie, 
unharnessed  and  put  up  his  span  in  the  little 
stable,  Ferdie  hitching  one  of  his  outside,  Mr. 
Simmons  being,  for  a  wonder,  away. 

"  O,  you've  put  up  the  horses —  have  you,  Mr. 
S waller?  Well,  I  hope  you've  locked  them  up, 
too.  To  think,  such  a  valuable  horse  as  you 
lost,  all  through  your  own  carelessness,  Mr. 
Swaller.  Nothing  else  —  don't  tell  me.  That 
beast  was  stole  right  under  your  nose^  and  like- 
ly's  not  these  will  be.  Then  where  shall  we  be? 
Have  to  trot  around  on  foot.  Pretty  figure  you'd 
cut  —  wouldn't  you  ?  setting  out  to  walk  east, 
heavy  as  you  are." 

The  Willards  welcomed  the  arrival  of  bed- 
time, in  the  hope  that  sleep  would  fetter  the 
tongue  of  the  /W/tering  Swallow.  She  retired 
early,  occupying  Mrs.  Willard's  bed  in  the  room 
below,  while  the  Willards  disposed  themselves  as 
best  they  could  in  the  attic. 

But  Mrs.  Willard  was  startled  from  a  refresh- 
ing nap  by  a  distressed  cry  from  the  apartment 
beneath. 

"  Mr.  Swaller  !  "  faintly. 

"  Mr.  Swaller  !  "  louder. 

"  Mr.  Swaller  !  "  angrily.    Then  desperately, 

"  Mrs.  Log-cabin-woman  !  Mrs.  Log-cabin- 
woman  /  " 


TRIBULATIONS   OF    A   fAT   MAN.  l8l 

Mrs.  Witlard  thrust  her  head  through  the  open- 
ing in  the  attic  floor,  at  the  ladder-way,  and 
asked, — 

"What's  wanted?" 

"  Mrs.  Log-cabin- worn  an,  won't  you  wake  up 
Mr.  S waller.     Fm  sick  !  " 

Mrs.  Willard  was  amused  and  vexed.  Com- 
fortably in  her  hostess's  bed  lay  the  vixen  vis- 
itress  and  offspring,  while  stretched  on  the  trunk- 
table  was  the  obese  husband  in  shirt  and  pants, 
his  head  topped  oflf  with  a  yellow  handkerchief, 
his  abortive  endeavors  at  snoring  —  consisting  of 
a  snort  and  a  puff —  attesting  how  happily  ob- 
livious he  was  to  the  agonies  of  his  Eve. 

"Madam,"  said  Mrs.  Willard,  "your  husband 
must  be  very  much  fatigued ;  hadn't  you  better 
let  him  rest?" 

"  Rest,  when  my  head  aches  as  if  'twould  split? 
Wake  him  up,  I  say.  I  shall  die  if  I  don't  have 
some  ice-zo\di  water  to  bathe  it  in." 

"  If  you  would  be  quiet,  perhaps  the  ache 
would  cease,"  mildly  suggested  Mrs.  Willard. 

"  My  poor  lungs  are  so  pressed  —  and  he  a  try- 
ing to  snore  !  And  I  so  weak  !  —  Mr.  Swaller  ?  '* 
tenderly  and  inquiringly.  "  You  wont  wake  up> 
hey  ?  We'll  see,  then,"  she  vociferated,  bound- 
ing to  his  side  and  smartly  shaking  him. 

"Wh-what's  to  pay?  "  he  stuttered. 

"Pay?     Its  spring  water  io  pay,  Mr.  Swaller. 


l82  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

There's  the  pail.     Qj^iick  !  I'm  most  gone  !  "  and 
she  retreated,  gasping,  to  her  couch. 

The  model  husband  repaired  to  the  spring, 
and,  returning,  bathed  her  forehead,  till,  tired  of 
that  service,  she  bade  him  stop,  saying,  — 

♦  "But  you're  not  going  to  lie  down  again,  Mr. 
Swaller ;  not  a  bit  of  it,  after  neglecting  me  so 
brutally.  You  shall  watch  by  me,  and  if  I  sur- 
vive this  horrible  night,  you  shall  take  me  east 
in  the  morning.  Live  among  these  western  sav- 
ages? That  woman  wouldn't  lift  her  littlest  fin- 
ger to  rouse  you,  though  I  was  most  dead —  and 
you  a  snoring  there  !  No  ;  you  can't  snore  like  a 
man  ;  you're  too  fat.  It's  puff,  snort ;  puff,  snort ; 
and  that  horrid  western  female  standing,  snigger- 
mg,  viewing  the  scene  !  " 

"  Mr.  Swaller,"  patiently  preserved  the  perpen- 
dicular till  daybreak,  his  wife  in  timely  interpo- 
sitions saluting  his  drooping  lids  with,  — 

"Not  going  to  sleep  —  are  you?  You  won't 
puff,  snort,  when  I'm  sick." 

As  the  swallows  were  migrating  next  day, 
Frankie,  addressing  the  man,  said, — 

"  Didn't  your  wife  say  you  had  a  horse  stolen 
from  you?  " 

"  She  did." 

"  What  sort  of  a  looking  beast  was  it?  " 

"  A  splendid  large  black  horse,  with  a  white 


TRIBULATIONS    OF   A   FAT   MAN.  1 83 

spot  in  the  forehead,  and  the  scar  of  a  flesh 
wound  inside  of  the  left  hind  leg,  on  the 
ham.  I  shall  get  posters  printed  describing  the 
beast,  and  offering  a  liberal  reward  for  its  re- 
covery." 


184  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS, 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FRANKIE'c   secret.  —  THE     INVISIBLE    PURSUER. 

"Aunt  Esther,"  whispered  Frankie,  "come 
out  near  the  breaking  pretty  soon  ;  I  want  to  see 
you  alone." 

The  prudent  spinster  repaired  thither  without 
attracting  notice. 

"Well,  what  do  you  want,  Frankie?"  she  in- 
quired. 

"About. this  Mr.  Simmons,"  he  replied,  coming 
directly  to  the  point.  "I  believe  he's  a  bad  fellow, 
and  will  do  us  some  mischief  yet,  if  we  don't  get 
rid  of  him." 

"  Have  you  found  out  anything  ?  "  she  asked, 
anxiously. 

"  Enough  to  make  me  determined  to  find  out 
more,"  said  he.  "Did  you  notice  how  suddenly 
he  left  off  eating  that  day  the  Swallows  called?" 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  thought  it  strange." 

"So  did  I;  but  I  know  the  reason.  He's 
mighty  quick  to  hear  the  least  sound.  He's  like 
a  cat  watching  for  a  mouse — only  he  acts  some- 
times as  if  he  was  the  mouse,  and  was  expecting 


FRANKIES   SECRET.  l8$ 

the  cat  to  catch  him.  He  heard  that  woman's 
voice,  and  hurried  to  the  stable.  I  followed  with- 
out his  seeing  me.  I'm  on  his  track  most  of  the 
time.  He  seems  to  know  it,  too ;  and  how  he 
glares  at  me  when  none  of  the  family  see  !  But 
he  can't  shake  me  off.  Well,  he  hurried  to  sad- 
dle and  bridle  his  horse,  and  ride  away.  You 
know  he  keeps  his  in  the  farther  stall  from  the 
door.  One  of  our  horses  happened  to  be  in  the 
way,  and  this  Simmons  kicked  him  terribly  in 
the  stomach,  and  swore  like  a  pirate." 

"Right  after  asking  a  blessing  at  the  table/" 
murmured  aunt  Esther. 

"Yes,  the  old  hypocrite  !  I  knew  he  did  that 
to  comb  the  wool  over  mother's  eyes.  Then 
hastening  to  mount,  he  drove  to  the  other  side  of 
the  grove,  and  waiting  there  till  the  Swallows 
had  gone  to  bed,  —  the  woman,  saying  she  was 
sick,  had  us  all  retire  earl}^  —  he  drove  like 
blazes  across  the  prairie,  the  rain  pouring  down 
all  the  while  like  a  deluge. 

"But  after  the  Swallows  had  left,  he  came 
back,  tied  up  his  horse,  and  went  to  work  fen- 
cing as  peacefully,  as  if  he  had  staid  by,  and 
wasn't  drenched  to  the   skin   in  the   shower." 

"  How  queer  !  "  ejaculated  the  lady. 

"Isn't  it  queer,  too,"  continued  the  dwarf,  fix- 
ing his  large  eyes  suggestively  on  hers,  "  that 
he's    kept   that    splendid    horse   here   so   long? 


1 86  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

When  he  agreed  for  the  boys  to  take  charge 
of  the  animal,  it  was  for  only  two  or  three  days, 
and  because,  he  stated,  that  the  horse  had  been 
overdriven,  and  needed  to  recruit.  But  the  crea- 
ture is  so  ambitious  and  high,  that  Simmons  will 
not  allow  him  to  be  grained.  He's  in  tip-top 
order.  Yet  his  master  never  uses  him  to  go  out 
of  sight  of  our  cabin,  but  walks  to  and  from  the 
places  where  he  so  often  goes.  What's  all  that 
for?" 

"  I'm  sure  I  can't  tell,"  she  answered,  perplexed. 

"Well,  /can,"  asserted  her  diminutive  inform- 
ant ;  "  that's  a  stolen  horse  !  " 

"  Stolen  1 " 

"Yes!" 

"What  makes  you  suspect  that?" 

"  Come  with  me,  and  I'll  convince  you,"  was 
the  reply.  And  the  Hunchback,  cautiously  peer- 
ing about  to  be  certain  no  curious  eyes  observed 
their  movements,  led  the  way  to  the  stable.  Then, 
pointing  between  the  logs  to  the  animal's  head, 
he  asked,  — 

"  Do  you  see  that  white  spot?  " 

"Certainly." 

Then  turning  a  corner  of  the  stable, — 

"  And  that  scar  on  the  inner  side  of  the  left 
hind  leg?     Look  sharp." 

"I  do." 

"  Mr.  Swallow  told  me  that  the  horse  that  was 


frankie's  secret.  187 

stolen  from  him  had  those  marks,  and  this  ani- 
mal in  all  other  respects  perfectly  answers  his 
description." 

"That  accounts  for  his  hurrying  off  in  the 
shower,"  mused  the  lady.  "  What  do  you  pro- 
pose doing  about  it,  Frankie?" 

"In  the  first  place,  mother  and  those  boys 
mustn't  know  what  we  think  about  it,  for  they'd 
ask  him  if  'twas  so,  and  thus  put  him  on  his 
guard,  and  perhaps  he'd  murder  us  all.  He  has 
a  savage  disposition,  and  a  man  that  will  lie  as 
he  has,  and  pretend  to  be  pious,  and  steal  a 
horse,  would  kill  you  if  you  were  in  his  path." 

Aunt  Esther  shuddered  and  turned  pale. 

"  We  are  completely  at  the  mercy  of  this  cold- 
blooded schemer,"  she  exclaimed.  "  He'll  get 
the  land  and  everything  from  us ;  and  even  our 
lives  are  not  secure." 

"We  mustn't  let  him,"  interposed  the  dwarf, 
fiercely.  "  It's  put  upon  me  to  foil  this  villain, 
and  I  will  do  it ;  "  and  the  piping  voice  rang  out 
shrill  as  a  fife. 

"  Be  careful !  "  remarked  aunt  Esther.  "  Some 
one  may  overhear  you.  Tell  me  what  your  plan 
is,  and  if  I  can  assist  in  it,"  she  added,  reso- 
lutely. 

"  He'll  be  here  to-night  —  it's  his  time  —  I've 
studied  his  habits.  To-morrow  he'll  leave  again, 
for  he  only  comes  now  to  see  if  his  horse  is  safe. 


j88  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

Then  I  shall  follow  him  ;  yes,"  added  the  dwarf, 
his  tones  dropping  to  a  hiss,  and  his  eyes  gleam- 
ing, "  I'll  track  him  to  his  haunts,  as  a  hound 
would  a  panther,  and  the  instant  I  get  the  proof 
I  want,  he'll  be  in  the  hands  of  an  officer." 

"  O,  what  if  he  should  see  you  following?  "  she 
said,  in  terror. 

"  He  won't.  Look,  auntie  !  "  and  sinking  into 
the  grass,  he  piped,  "  I  can  hide  at  his  very  heels 
—  almost." 

"But  you  are  weakly,  Frankie ;  he  can  travel 
faster  and  farther  than  you.  You  would  not  be 
able  to  keep  him  in  sight." 

''Wouldn't?"  exclaimed  the  Hunchback,  ris- 
ing, and  looking  her  confidently  in  the  face. 

"  How  do  you  know  you  could  ?  " 

"  Because  I've  tried,"  chuckled  the  dwarf.  "  I've 
tracked  him  mile  after  mile  —  been  behind  him  — 
before  him  —  at  his  right  —  at  his  left  —  sat  down 
when  he  sat  down — heard  him  talk  to  himself 
when  he  supposed  only  the  prairie  hens  and  the 
snakes  heard  him,  O,  how  lazy  he  is  ! "  and  his 
face  expressed  intense  disgust.  "  He  walks  lazy, 
and  he  works  lazy.  He  can  be  swifter  and 
stronger  than  the  swiftest  and  strongest  man 
I  ever  saw?  But  he  won't  —  only  for  a  little 
while,  to  deceive  folks.  He  managed  to  give 
those  boys  the  heavy  lifting  and  the  quick  mov- 
ing ;  but  he  talked  so  glib,  and   bossed  them  so 


frankie's  secret.  189 

well,  that  they  thought  he  was  doing  his  part. 
He  don't  expect  to  get  his  living  by  hurry  or  la- 
bor, but  by  trickery  and  fraud.  I've  hovered 
around  the  sneaking  scamp  till  every  crook  and 
turn  of  his  body  is  as  plain  to  me  beforehand 
as  that  the  sun  will  rise  and  set.  Ah,  Til  fix 
him  I" 

"I  dread  to  have  you  follow  this  man,"  ex- 
postulated his  aunt,  "for  if  he  should  discover 
you  —  " 

"Aunt  Esther,"  interrupted  the  dwarf,  "look 
at  me  once  more.  Am  I  not  ugly,  mishapen? 
Can  I  run,  leap,  wrestle,  or  swing  the  axe  and 
scythe?  Doesn't  every  one  wonder  that  I  endure 
to  live?  If  he  throttles  me,  better  me  than  the 
beautiful  and  the  able-bodied.  He  cannot,  how- 
ever. But  if  I  were  too  cowardly  and  selfish  to 
risk  it,  who  would?  And  who  can  imagine  what 
mischief  might  fall  on  the  family  !  It's  -put  upon 
me  to  do  this,  and  I  must." 

"  How  far  would  you  be  obliged  to  follow 
him?  "  she  asked. 

"Somewhere  from  twelve  to  eighteen  miles  — 
can't  judge  exactly." 

"Frankie,  dear,  I  suppose  I  must  trust  you  on 
this  strange  and  perilous  mission.  It's  hard, 
though,"  and  the  tears  fell ;  "  and  you  are  so 
noble  about  it !  I  shall  pray  for  you.  Here's  a 
little  money,"  handing  him  a  bill.     "You  may 


190  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

need  it  to  get  out  a  warrant,  or  secure  the  ser- 
vices of  an  officer,  —  I  don't  understand  these 
matters,  —  or  for  your  own  expenses  ;  "  and  strug- 
gling to  appear  cheerful,  she  re-entered  the  cabin. 

Mr.  Simmons,  as  Frankie  predicted,  tenanted 
his  shanty  that  night,  and  on  the  succeeding  fore- 
noon, after  patting  Georgie  and  praising  Ferdie 
for  their  smartness  and  ability  at  fencing,  hinting 
at  the  reward  in  store  for  them  for  acting  as  hos- 
tlers, and  lamenting  that  little  Frankie  was  such 
a  burden  to  them,  took  his  departure,  swinging 
along  at  a  masterly  gate,  till  an  ample  space  was 
between  himself  and  the  Willards  ;  then,  with 
indolent  saunter,  he  moved  at  the  other  extreme 
of  pedestrian  locomotion. 

Behind  him,  in  the  distance,  had  he  looked  criti- 
cally back  with  a  magnifying  glass,  perhaps  he 
would  have  detected  a  black  speck  moving  after 
in  the  distance.  It  was  the  dwarf's  cap  in  the 
prairie  grass. 

Mr.  Simmons's  well-developed  figure  stood  dis- 
tinctly outlined  against  the  sky,  but  the  pursuing 
pygmy  was  too  near  the  earth  to  be  easily  dis- 
cerned. The  Hunchback's  eyes  were  clear, 
determined,  alert,  though  more  than  ever  deep 
and  thoughtful.  His  face  expressed  mingled 
satisfaction,  wariness,  and  resentment.  The 
unconsciously  pursued  instinctively  hated  his 
pursuer,  and  had  he  been  aware  of  the  latter's 


THE    INVISIBLE    PURSUER.  I9I 

propinquity,  how  quickly  he  would  have  crushed 
him,  with  no  hand  to  interpose  ! 

But  the  Hunchback,  though  bodily  contempti- 
ble, compared  with  Mr.  Simmons,  had  a  hcad^ 
—  you  need  not  be  certified  of  that,  were  you 
to  meet  him,  —  and  his  physical  minuteness 
was,  under  the  circumstances,  to  his  advantage. 
Blessed  are  short  legs  when  one  on  the  prai- 
ries must  not  be  seen !  .  With  his  singularly 
precocious  intellect,  sharpened  by  sorrow,  and 
roused  by  the  emergencies  of  his  present  under- 
taking, Mr.  Simmons  had  in  the  despised  dwarf 
no  mean  antagonist. 

What  a  scene !  In  front  loomed  Mr.  Sim- 
mons's  towering  form  ;  in  the  rear  was  the  squat 
proportions  of  the  pertinacious  young  Hunch- 
back. And  thus  they  proceeded  for  miles  —  the 
leader,  in  his  careless  indolence,  barely  putting 
one  foot  before  the  other,  often  stopping  to  gaze 
skyward,  or  at  the  various  points  of  the  compass, 
or  to  cast  himself  at  length  on  the  plain  ;  the  fol- 
lower, steadily  gaining  on  him,  yet  maintaining 
a  discreet  distance. 

Across  Mr.  Simmons's  route  there  flowed  a 
shallow  creek.  Here  he  was  accustomed  to  sol- 
ace himself  with  a  smoke.  Of  this  circumstance 
the  little  Hunchback  seemed  aware,  for  striking 
into  the  luxuriant  growths  lining  the  banks  of  the 
stream,  he  curled  himself  up  triumphantly  within 


192  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

a  few  rods  of  his  enemy.  Evidently  this  was  a 
feat  he  had  before  accompHshed,  and  of  which 
he  was  particularly  proud. 

Mr.  Simmons  rested,  and  the  dwarf  waited. 
An  hour  glided  by,  then  another.  Hunchback 
became  impatient,  he  was  so  anxious  to  reach  the 
end  of  his  pursuit  and  face  the  villain,  as  he  felt 
confident  he  was  to  do  with  the  fist  of  justice  — 
not  his  own  fist ;  that  lacked  knuckle.  Why 
did  the  man  laze  so?  The  dwarf  obtained  infor- 
mation on  this  point  by  a  method  on  which  he 
did  not  reckon. 

"I  see  you,  old  boy  !  "  said  Simmons,  sudden- 
ly resuming  an  upright  position,  and  looking  in 
the  direction  of  the  lad. 

The  dwarf  trembled.  Had  the  cunning  horse- 
stealer been  cognizant  of  his  pursuit,  and  per- 
mitted him  to  approach,  that  he  might  deal  out 
summary  vengeance?  His  impulse  was  to  rise 
and  defend  himself  to  the  last  extremity  —  a  for- 
lorn extremity  indeed,  for  him.  Flee  he  could 
not  with  the  least  chance  of  escape.  But  some- 
thing held  him  quiet.  How  fortunate  !  For  Mr. 
Simmons,  forming  a  tube  of  his  hands,  shouted 
as  if  to  some  one  remote. 

"Ahoy,  there!" 

"  Ay,  ay  !  "  was  the  response. 

And  the  Hunchback,  assured  that  he  had  not 
been  seen,  noiselessly  turned  to  ascertain  who  the 


i^^i^-^V^^^^;^,^-^^^^ 


Aunt  Esther  and  Frankie.  Page  188. 


THE    INVISIBLE    PURSUER.  I93 

last  speaker  was.  The  long  strides  of  the  new 
comer  soon  brought  him  to  view  —  a  rough,  ill- 
visaged  customer,  with  bushy  wtiiskers,  and  car- 
rying a  gun.  Approaching  obliquely,  his  course 
lay  directly  across  the  Hunchback's  hiding-place. 
Nor  did  the  dwarf  dare  move,  for  Mr.  Simmons 
stood  overlooking  his  concealment,  and  the  least 
motion  or  rustling  might  betray  him.  He  had, 
however,  escaped  one  danger  by  keeping  still ; 
this  encouraged  him  not  to  precipitate  his  fate  by 
useless  action.  The  friendly  sedges  put  their 
blossoming  tops  together  to  screen  him ;  but  al- 
ready he  lay  exposed  to  the  advancing  foot  of 
the  stranger,  when  the  latter,  springing  aside, 
exclaimed,  — 

"  A  rattlesnake,  old  boss,  sure's  you're  alive  !  " 
And  making  a  circuit  to  avoid  the  reptile,  he 
avoided  the  Hunchback  too.  - 

"Even  a  rattlesnake  can  do  some  good,'* 
thought  the  dwarf,  breathing  freer. 

"How  are  yer.  Grimes?"  said  the  stranger. 
"  Give  us  yer  paw  !  " 

"Ah,  Grimes  !  "  soliloquized  the  dwarf;  "  then 
Simmons  isn't  his  true  name  !  " 

"And  you,  Scroggs?  They  haven't  nabbed 
you  yet,  hey  ?  " 

"  No,  nor  3'ou  nuther.     But  jist  you  see  here  ! 
Isn't  that  a  purty  toy  ?  " 
13 


194  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

The  Hunchback,  peering  from  his  nest,  saw 
that  it  was  a  gold  watch  and  chain. 

"Took  the  critter  from  a  cabin  not  more'n  two 
hours  ago.  Door  was  open — walked  in.  No- 
body there.  This  thing  hanging  agin  the  logs. 
Says  I,  'It's  no  place  for  jewelry,  in  a  log  cabin,* 
and  having  an  affection  for  sich  trash,  jist  tuck  it 
*long.      Scare  up  any  game  out  here,  old  fellow  ?  " 

"  Slim  picking,  compared  with  better.  'Tain't 
like  the  Mississip,"  replied  Simmons.  "  Got  a 
horse  to  sell,  and  some  geese  to  pluck.  Tell  yer 
what,  that  animal,  is  wuth  five  hundred  dollars, 
if  it's  wuth  a  cent.  Belonged  to  a  rhinoceros  in 
hat  and  boots  —  travelling  for  his  lady's  health. 
Isn't  she  a  screamer?  Took  the  horse  off  while 
she  was  trotting  her  man  round  doing  family 
chores.  Stabled  him  way  off  on  the  prairie, 
where  he'll  be  safe  from  his  former  owner  till 
the  excitement's  over ;  then  he's  on  the  market. 
Don't  fancy  waitin'  'fore  realizin' ;  but  I  gets  free 
gratis  ;  the  boys  take  care  of  the  animal  because 
they  love  me  like  a  father ;  they've  put  me  up 
some  hay,  —  that's  already  engaged  —  and  have 
fenced  7iiy  breaking  to  help  me  jump  their  claim 
—  ha,  ha,  ha!" 

^^  Ha,  ha,  ha!  "  mocked  the  dwarf,  in  the  grass, 
too  angry  to  contain  himself. 

"What's  that?"  exclaimed  Scroggs,  turning 
around.     "  Did  you  hear  that  laugh  ?  " 


THE    INVISIBLE    PURSUER.  I95 

"Yes,"  replied  his  companion,  "plain  enough  !" 

Rising,  they  gazed  silently  about  them. 

"  Wal,  one  thing's  sartin,"  observed  Scroggs, 
as  they  seated  themselves  again ;  "  there's  not  a 
human  on  this  prairie." 

"But,  Grimes,  you  spoke  on  the  boys;  whar's 
the  old  uns?" 

"  Wal,  fust  comes  their  dear  mamma  —  the  pi- 
ousest  shemale  afloat  —  'twould  do  your  gizzard 
good,  old  boss,  to  hear  me  pray  over  her  cook- 
ing ! " 

"  You  didn't  try  that  on  !  " 

"  I  did,  though  ;  but  it  didn't  come  a  mite  nat- 
ural. I  expected  an  invitation  to  say  grace,  as 
they  call  it,  and  having  a  minister  in  tow,  I  jist 
noticed  how  he  went  on,  and  repeated  it  word  for 
word  —  shut-eyes  —  clasped  hands  —  went  the 
whole  figger." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha ! "  they  roared,  slapping  their 
sides. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha ! "  shrilly  echoed  the  irascible 
dwarf. 

"There's  that  sound  agin  —  it  fairly  chills  me," 
said  Scroggs.     "What  you  s'pose  it  is,  boss?" 

"It  must  either  be  an  echo  or  a  bird,  I  judge," 
replied  the  other,  deliberating. 

"  Next  is  an  old  maid,  aunt  Esther,  my  sweet- 
hearty  you  understand  —  don't  swaller  soft  soap 
as  easy  as  the  other.     Then  a  miserable  imita- 


196  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

tion  of  a  human  with  a  hunch  back.  Blast  him 
• —  his  eyes  follow  me  everywhere.  I'd  strangle 
hhn  if  I  had  a  chance  ! " 

"  Eny  money  there  ?  " 

"Not  much  show.  Don't  know,  though,  'bout 
the  old  maid.  She's  close-mouthed  as  an  oyster. 
That's  what  Fm  courting  her  for  —  to  find  out.*' 

"You  ain't  mentioned  the  old  man." 

"Haven't  any.  That  weasel  of  a  Hunchback 
told  me,  when  I  fust  introduced  myself  to  the  in- 
teresting household,  that  they  left  hijn  behind. 
So  they  had,  with  a  vengeance.  The  mother 
opened  her  innocent  heart  to  me  pretty  free.  He 
was  robbed  on  the  steamer,  and  thrown  over- 
board." 

His  comrade  rose,  and  laying  his  freckled  red 
hand  on  Grimes's  shoulder,  said,  — 

"Who  do  you  s'pose  did  that  job?" 

"'Twasn'tyou?" 

"  Me  and  Brooks.  That's  why  I'm  here.  I'm 
doubtful  if  'twas  done  thorough.  His  wife  was 
a  callin'  to  him,  an'  his  brat  was  comin'  to  see 
whar  he  was,  an'  me  an'  Brooks  clutched  him  i" 
a  hurry,  and  I  relieved  him  of  his  valuables,  and 
touched  him  up  with  the  steel,  and  histed  him  out 
of  the  boat  all  at  oust,  as  you  may  say.  An' 
Brooks  stands  to  it  he  saw  him  arterwards  hug- 
ging a  snag.  Now,  boss,  ^that's  so,  and  he 
was  helped  oif  by  some  one,  I  wouldn't  jist  like 


THE    INVISIBLE    PURSUER.  I97 

to  light  upon  him  among  folks.  So  I've  taken 
to  travelling  on  the  prairies  till'  it  blows  one  way 
or  t'other. 

"  But  ain't  you  going  to  jine  our  company  ? 
You're  skittish,  come  to  the  scratch  ;  a  reg'lar  born 
coward ;  but  you're  cute.  There's  'leven  of  us. 
Has  our  headquarters  on  the  river.  Have  a  wo- 
man to  cook,  an'  wash,  an'  spy  for  us;  she's  a 
buster  —  fight  like  a  tiger  —  cry  like  a  baby." 

"  Where's  your  hiding-place  ? "  asked  Sim- 
mons. 

"  'Bout  three  miles  an'  a  half,  'bove  Cole's  whis- 
key shop.  Cave  under  the  bluff.  Nobody  can 
scent  it.  Small  island  just  opposite  —  big  tree 
on't  —  dead  —  struck  by  lightning." 

"  What's  the  pass-word?  " 

"  Whistle  three  times  —  so  !  "  and  he  made  the 
sounds.  "Our  fellars'll  be  mighty  glad  to  see 
yer.  Shall  go  back  soon  myself —  dry  pickin' 
on  the  prairies." 

"Well,  I  must  start  on,"  said  Simmons. 

"So  must  I,"  answered  Scroggs ;  "  good  by, 
hoss ;  "  and  the  latter  went  his  way,  and  t)  e  for- 
mer his  —  accompanied  by  the  vigilant  and  'Jew- 
less  dwarf. 


198  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Picture  to  yourself  a  man  of  fifty,  of  medium 
height,  stoutly  built,  square  shoulders,  bh«ck  hair 
and  eyes,  long,  hooked,  knowledgeable  nose,  sol- 
emn physiognomy,  grave  step  —  Mr.  Grey,  of 
Minnesota,  reader  ! 

No  more  honest-looking  face  than  his  would 
you  see  among  a  thousand.  And  as  for  his  eyes, 
a  neighbor,  who  had  a  theory  on  the  subject, 
said  she  knew  he  was  truthful  from  their  sliape ; 
while  his  worn  suit  of  black,  of  which  its  ancient 
swallow-tail  was  noticeable,  had  a  sort  of  classical 
air,  tending  to  check  any  sense  of  the  grotesque 
which  might  arise  in  the  mind  of  the  spectator. 

He  has  of  late  been  "  hired  man  "  to  Mr.  Par- 
sons, the  missionary  at  L .  He  first  intro- 
duced himself  to  the  clergyman  in  a  way  that 
touched  his  sympathies.  He  hailed  from  Penn- 
sylvania, where,  he  stated,  his  wife  and  children 
still  lived,  and  whom  he  was  anxious  to  bring  to 
his  present  location,  because  the  fever  and  ague 
prevailed  in  that  part  of  the  state.     He  said  he 


GRUBBING.  HONEST  MR.  GREY.     I99 

had  made  "  a  claim  "  on  the  adjacent  prairie,  and 
"  put  up  "  a  shanty  on  it,  designing  to  make  such 
"  improvements "  as  the  law  required,  and  then 
from  his  earnings  —  for  he  was  poor  —  meet  the 
expense  of  preemption  and  removal.  He  gave  a 
glowing  account  of  his  family,  whom  he  seemed 
greatly  to  miss,  and  was  anxious  that  his  com- 
panion should  be  informed  as  to  his  situation,  and 
the  character  and  prospects  of  the  locality  he  had 
chosen. 

"  I  am  not  used  to  writing,"  said  he,  "  and  I 
have  called  to  ask  if  you  will  be  so  good  as  to 
write  a  line  to  my  wife  for  me." 

After  some  further  conversation,  the  letter  was 
written,  met  his  approval,  and,  in  accordance 
with  his  direction,  addressed  to  the  absent  part- 
ner of  his  fortunes,  Mrs.  Angelina  P.  Grey, 
Readfield,  Pa. 

A  few  weeks  passed,  and  he  again  made  his 
appearance,  full  of  trouble.  No  answer  had  been 
received  to  his  affectionate  epistle,  and  he  was 
making  little  headway  in  his  worldly  affairs. 

"  Young  men  get  all  the  jobs,"  he  complained. 
"  People  don't  like  to  hire  old  men  like  me.  They 
think  I  can't  do  much  now  ;  but  I  can  keep  up 
my  end  with  the  best  of  them."  He  then  oflx'red 
to  engage  himself  to  the  missionary  at  a  reasona- 
ble price,  to  do  anything  desired. 

There  was  one  department  of  "  new  country  * 


200  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

enterprise  which  those  who  lived  in  the  "  oak 
openings  "  found  difficult  enough.  It  was  "  grub- 
bing,"—  I  do  not  mean  "  getting  one's  grub," 
although  this  was  not  any  too  easy.  The  fires, 
which  from  time  immemorial  had  swept  the  prai- 
ries, burned  off,  each  year,  the  embryo  trees.  But 
the  roots,  being  comparatively  uninjured,  con- 
tinued to  grow,  forming,  near  the  surface  of  the 
ground,  woody  accumulations,  round,  gnarled, 
and  tough,  called  grubs.  These  must  be  re- 
moved by  the  grubbing-hoe  —  an  implement  hav- 
ing a  pick  on  one  side  to  remove  the  soil,  and  an 
axe  on  the  other  to  assault  the  roots.  Mr.  Grey's 
application  was  well  timed,  for  Mr.  Parsons  had 
set  his  heart  on  a  garden  near  his  cabin,  had 
spoken  for  a  "  breaking  team,"  and  was  trying  to 
do  impossibilities  in  the  grubbing  line,  when  the 
sedate  Pennsylvanian  came  up  the  path. 

Taking  up  the  hoe,  which  the  minister  had  laid 
down,  he  said,  pityingly,  — 

"  Now  this  is  too  hard  for  such  as  you." 

The  fact  was  evident. 

"  It's  what  you  don't  know  how  to  do,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  provided  you  had  strength  for  it.  Grub- 
bing is  as  much  of  a  trade  as  blacksmithing,  and 
a  mighty  sight  harder.  Just  see  here,"  added 
he,  removing  the  earth  from  a  beheaded  grub ; 
"the  plough  can  never  get  through  that.  'Tisn't 
cut  off  deep   enough ;  for  the  twigs  on  top  of 


GRUBBING.  —  HONEST  MR.  GREY.    20I 

them,  if  not  cut  off,  show  just  where  the  grubs 
are,  and  the  ploughman  can  keep  clear  of  some 
of  them." 

Which  was  all  true. 

"  Let  me  show  you  how  to  do  it,"  he  exclaimed, 
heartily.  And  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he 
extirpated,  with  surprising  dexterity,  grub  after 
grub.  Then  leaning  on  the  hoe-handle,  and 
talking  in  a  confidential  tone,  he  said,  — 

"  Why,  I've  cleared  acres  and  acres  of  these 
'ere.  I  was  brought  up  to  it,  as  I  might  say. 
When's  the  team  comin'  to  tear  up  this  bit  of 
land?" 

"A  week  to-day,"  replied  the  missionary. 

"  Well,  you  can't  get  these  grubs  out  by  that 
time  yourself.  Suppose,  then,  you  let  me  do  it 
for  you.  I'll  have  the  piece  all  ready,  smooth  as 
a  picter,  if  I  have  to  dig  to  the  centre  of  the 
earth.  Only  I  shall  have  to  board  with  you 
meanwhile.     I  ain't  a  mite  particular  what  I  eat." 

Deferring  the  ploughing  till  a  later  day  to  give 
him  ample  time,  —  for  the  clergyman  had  heard 
that  Mr.  Grey  was  very  slow ;  some  called  him 
lazy,  —  an  unpardonable  sin  in  the  eyes  of  the 
energetic  frontiersmen,  —  the  good  missionary 
set  him  at  the  task  with  the  complacent  feeling 
which  one  has  when  he  helps  himself  and  his 
neighbor  at  the  same  time. 

At  night,  on  inspecting  Mr.   Grey's  work,  it 


202  tllE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

proved  satisfactory  ;  and  as  urgent  engagements 
called  Mr.  Parsons  from  home  each  day  until  af- 
ter nightfall,  the  grubbing  was  left  wholly  to  the 
workman.  But  always,  when  he  hurriedly  re- 
turned at  noon,  the  missionary  could  see  him  lus- 
tily toiling.  Once,  however,  entering  the  house 
at  an  unusual  hour,  his  wife  said,  with  a  laugh,  — 

"Do  see  Mr.  Grey  perform.  I  have  watched 
him  till  I  have  cried,  laughing." 

Stepping  to  the  window,  the  preacher  saw  that 
Mr.  Grey  was  indulging  "  the  resistance  which 
inactive  matter  makes  to  a  change  of  state,"  to 
his  heart's  content.  A  prolonged  look  at  the  sky 
northward,  then  a  rest ;  then  moderately  spitting 
on  the  ground  once  ;  next  an  examination  of  the 
horizon  eastward,  followed  by  an  inspection  of 
the  hoe  from  top  to  edge ;  another  gaze  into 
space ;  spitting  again ;  at  length  the  hoe  is 
raised,  but  only  to  repose  a  while  on  the  capacious 
shoulder.  At  last,  more  by  gravitation  than  mus- 
cular force,  an  ineffectual  blow  is  struck. 

With  a  ringing  laugh,  the  wife  declared  that, 
with  certain  characteristic  variations,  the  same 
movements  had  been  enacted  and  reenacted 
throughout   the   entire   morning. 

"Poor  man,"  she  kindly  ejaculated,  "  let  him 
favor  his  old  frame.  He  has  time  enough  to  get 
the  land  read}^  And,"  she  added,  "  he  seems  to 
make  good  progress,  after  all.     How  clear  the 


GRUBBING.  —  HONEST  MR.  GREY.     203 

ground  is  behind  him  !  not  a  grub-sprout  to  be 
seen." 

One  feature  in  the  character  of  the  hired  man, 
which  covered  a  muhitude  of  infirmities,  was  his 
godly  inclinations.  He  did  not  profess  to  be  a 
Christian,  but  described  Mrs.  Grey  as  a  model 
disciple,  sighing  because  he  was  unlike  her  in 
this  respect.  When  his  day's  work  was  done,  he 
would  take  the  large  Bible,  seat  himself  by  the 
light,  spread  open  the  book  reverently  on  his 
knees,  and  read,  quite  absorbed.  No  other  read- 
ing could  tempt  him  from  that.  At  family  devo- 
tions he  knelt  devoutly  ;  and  carefully  washed, 
shaved,  and  "  dickied,"  he  greeted  the  Sabbath 
and  its  services.  His  conversation  was  mostly  on 
religious  topics. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  contemplatively  observed 
one  day,  "as  I  did  right  in  not  having  my  babies 
baptized,  it  would  have  been  such  a  comfort  to 
their  mother; "and  a  tear  glistened  in  his  honest 
eye. 

Listening  to  his  domestic  portraitures,  the  cler- 
gyman and  wife  soon  felt  quite  acquainted  with 
Mr.  Grey's  estimable  spouse,  and  his  well- 
trained  Sophronia,  —  a  successful  school-teacher, 
—  and  certainly  sympathized  with  him  in  the 
miscarriage  of  his  first  letter ;  and  a  second  was 
despatched  to  Mrs.  Angelina  P.  Grey,  county  as 
well  as  town  being  specified. 


504  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

At  dinner,  at  tea,  Mr.  Grey  would  groan  over 
grubbing.  "  It  was  the  most  straining^t^X.  busi- 
ness that  ever  a  man  did,"  he  declared.  How 
his  back  ached  his  listeners  could  only  imagine 
by  his  woful  grimaces,  and  the  expressive  habit 
he  had  of  pressing  his  hand  upon  that  part  of  the 
body  whenever  he  straightened  up  from  a  stoop- 
ing posture.  Even  the  famous  liniment  which  a 
pitying  hand  furnished  him  gave  only  temporary 
relief. 

"  It  is  because  he  gets  so  tired  through  the 
day,"  his  gentle-minded  critic  would  suggest,  as 
his  stentorian  snoring  set  the  baby  crying  in  the 
room  below,  and  spread  panic  among  the  rest  of 
the  youngsters.  And  the  clergyman,  with  stately 
humor,  said,  "I  must  say  that  I  have  listened  to 
many  competitors  in  these  unwelcome  serenades, 
but  never  till  now  heard  the  leader  of  the  world's 
nasal  orchestra." 

"  I  would  like  my  pay  for  the  grubbing,"  said 
Mr.  Grey,  as  the  missionary  came  in  one  even- 
ing. 

"Are  the  grubs  all  taken  out?"  he  asked. 

"  Not  one  left,"  was  the  reply. 

"  But  I  stumbled  against  some  in  crossing  the 
lot." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  workman,  "there  were  a 
few  small  ones  left  in  that  corner,  because  they 
were  of  no  account.     The  plough  will  go  through 


GRUBBING.  —  HONEST   MR.    GREY.  205 

them  without  trouble.  When  I  work  for  a  man, 
I  wish  to  do  by  him  just  as  I  would  do  for  m}'- 
self.  I  could  have  spent  time  in  cutting  out  every 
little  stub,  but  it  would  be  a  needless  expense  to 
you." 

"  Well,"  said  his  employer,  "  I  will  slip  down 
and  see  how  things  look  ;  "  and  holding  the  lan- 
tern close  to  the  ground  as  he  went,  he  found 
that  not  a  grub  had  been  disturbed  in  that  part 
of  the  enclosure. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  he  inquired  ;  for  the 
workman  had  followed. 

He  replied,  unabashed,  — 

"I  thought  I  would  just  knock,  off  the  twigs 
on  this  side,  my  back  was  so  lame;  but  I 
shan't  charge  you  anything  for  that,  if  you'll 
pay  me  for  the  rest  of  the  field." 

"  I'll  examine  the  remainder  first,"  rejoined 
the  minister ;  and,  to  his  amazement,  it  was  re- 
vealed that  after  the  first  day's  labor,  the  whole 
had  been  gone  over  in  the  same  deceptive  man- 
ner ! 

"  Pay  me  for  that^^^  demanded  Mr.  Grey. 

"  Pay  me  for  your  board,"  exclaimed  the  in- 
dignant clergyman,  "  and  the  damage  you  have 
caused  by  breaking  off  the  twigs  and  leaving 
the  roots  in  the  soil  out  of  sight." 

The  dishonest  workman  raised  the  ponderous 
hoe    threateningly  —  for    he    had    it  with   him. 


2o6  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

A  sardonic  smile  played  over  his  face,  a  mur- 
derous light  gleamed  from  his  eyes.  He  kept 
the  weapon  poised  a  moment,  as  if  weighing 
the  pros  and  cons,  then  put  it  down,  and  silently 
departed.  The  missionary  felt  that  the  man 
would  have  killed  him,  had  he  thought  he  could 
have  done  so  safely  to  himself. 

Not  long  after,  an  acquaintance  accosted  Mr. 
Parsons,  saying,  — 

"  Mr.  Grey  worked  for  you  a  few  weeks  since, 
I  believe.  How  did  he  do  while  in  your  em- 
ploy?" 

Unsuspectingly  stating  what  his  conduct  had 
been,  the  missionary  was  subpoenaed  the  next 
day,  as  witness  in  a  case  in  law,  in  which,  I 
think,  Mr.  Grey  was  plaintiff.  The  defendant 
had  caused  the  minister  to  be  summoned,  he 
said,  to  "  impeach  "  Mr.  Grey.  The  county  seat 
was  some  fifteen  miles  distant,  and  Mr.  Parsons 
found  that  quite  a  number  were  going  over  on 
the  same  errand  as  himself,  having  also  been  de- 
frauded by  the  crafty  Pennsylvanian. 

A  brisk  ride  behind  the  village  storekeeper's 
fine  span,  across  solitary  stretches  of  rolling 
prairie,  brought  them  to  their  destination,  an  un- 
finished story-and-a-half  house,  hidden  by  an 
irregular  growth  of  native  trees.  It  stood  on  a 
slight  swell  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  and  had 
a   pleasant,   well-to-do    air,   with  its  thrifty  sur- 


GRUBBING.  HONEST    MR.    GREY.  207 

roundings  of  ploughed  fields,  grazing  cattle,  and 
domestic  fowl.  It  was  also  the  village  tav^ern,  — . 
as  one  might  judge  by  the  loungers. 

The  court  sat  in  the  bar-room.  As  the  com- 
pany from    L entered,   they  were    received 

w^ith  hostile  demonstrations  by  the  residents  as- 
sembled, for  Mr.  Grey  had  taken  up  his  abode  in 
the  place,  — boarding  at  the  tavern,  —  and  hav- 
ing ingratiated  himself  in  the  esteem  of  the  peo- 
ple, they  supposed  him  a  w^orthy  and  injured 
man.  He  did  look  prepossessing,  Mr.  Parsons 
thought,  as,  entering,  he  saw  him  parading  the 
apartment,  calm  and  neat.  He  was,  however,  a 
little  disconcerted  as  one  after  another  of  his  vic- 
tims filed  in.  Such  a  meeting  he  had  not  antici- 
pated. He  had  engaged  shrewd  counsel,  who 
seemed  at  the  outset  to  have  confidence  in  him. 

"  I  move,"  said  a  rowdy,  full  of  fight,  "  that  the 
services  be  opened  with  prayer,"  glancing  defi- 
antly at  the  missionary. 

Mr.  Grey's  opponent,  a  swearing,  loud-voiced 
boaster  from  New  England,  chose  to  conduct  his 
own  case.  He  soon  got  the  justice  enraged  be- 
yond self-control  by  his  blunders,  interruptions, 
and  insults,  as  he  raved  around  the  room,  law- 
book in  hand,  goadmg  the  court  with  his  inso- 
lence. The  lawyer  evidently  enjoyed  this  as-" 
pect  of  the  case  hugely.     Confusion  reigned. 

Meanwhile  there  was  much  private  discussion^ 


208  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

in  which  Mr.  Grey's  history  was  being  rapidly 
unsealed.  Seizing  a  good  chance,  the  mission- 
cir\^  got  Mr.  Grey's  ear,  told  him  that  his  char- 
acter was  well  known,  and  advised  him  to  set- 
tle the  matter  with  his  adversary  as  soon  as 
possible.  He  grew  frightened.  Popular  feeling 
began  to  turn  against  him.  The  case  suddenly 
closed,  I  can  scarcely  tell  how  —  in  some  sum- 
mary frontier  way,  however.  Mr.  Grey's  coun- 
sel, disgusted  with  him,  and  finding  that  he 
could  get  no  fee,  called  for  his  horse,  and,  as 
the  crowd  stood  watching  his  management  of 
the  high-spirited  animal,  he  started  for  his  dis- 
tant home.  Off  dashed  the  advocate  ;  but  before 
he  had  got  fairly  under  way,  Mr.  Grey,  the  pic- 
ture of  terror,  ran  frantically  after,  shouting, 
w^hile  the  spectators  cheered  him  on,  — 

"  Hold  on  !  hold  on  !  Don't  leave  me  !  Take 
me  in  !  "  and  catching  hold  of  the  back  of  the 
vehicle  with  a  desperate  grasp,  as  the  astonished 
lawyer  slackened  his  pace,  he  clambered  in, 
and  was  soon  out  of  sight.  And  that  was  the 
last  they  saw  of  Mr.  Grey. 

I  scarcely  need  say  that  there  was  no  evidence 
that  Mr.  Grey  was  from  Pennsylvania ;  that 
Mrs.  Angelina  P.  Grey  was  other  than  a  myth. 
He  was,  it  was  thought,  an  escaped  jail-bird, 
his  vices  being,  perhaps,  the  natural  fruit  of 
that  parent  sin  —  laziness. 


HONEST    MR.    GREY.  209 

"And,"  said  Mr.  Parsons's  right  hand  man, 
good  Deacon  Palmer,  "  St.  Paul's  rule  that  '  if 
any  would  not  work,  neither  should  he  eat,'  is 
wise  and  just  in  more  senses  than  one.  The 
sluggard  is  ever  a  covetous  man ;  as  Solomon 
says,  *  He  coveteth  greedily  all  the  day  long  ;'  and 
as  ^  his  hands  refuse  to  labor,'  and  he  is  thereby 
brought  to  want,  who  so  tempted  to  crime  as  he? 
The  indolent  man  is  by  logical  necessity  a  dan- 
gerous  man,  and  I  always  give  him  a  wide  berth. 
You  preachers,  however,  have  so  little  practical 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  that  though  you 
preached  '  total  depravity '  Sunday,  next  day  a 
knave  would  make  you  think  him  an  angel. 
You  need  to  be  taken  in  occasionally  to  reform 
this  professional  weakness."  He  added,  after  a 
moment's  pause,  "  Many  persons  fling  at  the 
church  because  there  are  hypocrites  in  it,  but  Mr. 
Grey's  case  shows  that  there  is  now  and  then  one 
out  of  it." 

But  when  next  the  storekeeper  and  mission- 
ary met,  the  former,  his  coal-black  eyes  stream- 
ing lightning,  and  both  arms  in  vigorous  mo- 
tion, —  as  was  his  manner  when  excited,  — took 
the  latter  to  task  for  advising  Mr.  Grey  to  close 
the  case  at  the  justice's. 

"  He's  a  double-dyed  rascal,  parson ;  and  we 
ought  to  have  nabbed  him  when  we  had  the 
chance.  Why,  sir,  a  squab-up  morsel  of  hu- 
14 


2IO  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

t 

manity,  with  voice  like  an  asthmatic  chicken, 
and  pipe-stem  legs,  tracked  that  chap  more  than 
fifteen  miles  afoot,  to  expose  his  wickedness 
and  save  his  folks  from  the  villain's  claws." 

"Who  did  you  say  it  was?" 

"A  young  hunchback.  It  appears  that  this  de- 
ceiver gave  his  name  in  that  settlement  as  Sim- 
mons, and  representing  himself  as  a  well-to-do 
bachelor  in  search  of  a  wife,  tried  to  inveigle 
a  respectable  maiden  lady  into  matrimony.  He 
was  designing  also  to  jump  a  claim  belonging 
to  two  lone  women,  and  had  secreted  a  stolen 
—  but  no  matter  about  that  now.  It  looks 
mightily  as  if  this  Grey,  alias  Simmons,  alias 
Grimes,  —  another  of  his  names,  —  was  in  league 
with  a  horde  of  Mississippi  River  cutthroats.  He 
won't  trouble  people  this  way  again  very  soon, 
I'm  thinking —  more's  the  pity.  I'd  like  to  help 
string  him  up  !  " 

"Did  you  learn  the  Hunchback's  name?" 
asked  the  clergyman. 

"Willard,"  replied  Mr.  Cowles. 

"  Where  is  the  Willard  claim?  " 

"Customers  came  in,  and  I  forgot  to  find  out. 
In  fact,  as  the  Hunchback  promised  to  be  on 
hand  with  his  mother  and  aunt,  in  season  for 
Grey's  case,  I  expected  then  to  be  better  informed 
about  them.  Why  he  didn't  come  I  can't  deci- 
pher — 'fraid  something  has  happened  to  the  brave 


HONEST   MR.    GREY.  21 1 

little  squatty.  I  meant  to  have  helped  him  on  his 
way  back  a  piece,  but  he  went  away  before  I  was 
aware." 

"  I  have  wondered  that  I  heard  nothing  from 
that  family,"  said  Mr.  Parsons.  "Tom  Jones 
made  their  acquaintance  at  the  Landing,  and 
directed  them  near  us.  He  particularly  com- 
mended them  to  the  sympathy  and  kind  offices 
of  the  settlers  here.     I  must  look  them  up.'^ 


212  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

JOHN   tower's    town. A   WEDDING    TOUR. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  waiter  at  the  Winneshiek  Ho- 
tel, in  Dacotah,  putting  his  head  in  at  the  door 
of  Mr.  Parsons's,  (the  missionary)  room,  "  a  gen- 
tleman below  wants  to  see  you.  Shall  I  show 
him  up?"  And  in  due  time  a  man  about  fifty, 
of  fresh,  florid  face  and  stout  figure,  entered  the 
room. 

Slowl}^  unrolling  a  showily-drawn  chart,  on 
the  margin  of  which  was  emblazoned  Prairie 
City^  he  remarked,  — 

"Let  me  show  you  the  new  town,  sir,  which  I 
am  starting.  We  have  got  the  location,  sir,"  he 
continued,  emphatically,  swinging  his  chart  into 
the  light,  "  and  we  expect  to  make  a  wide-awake 
thorough-going  thing  of  it,  that  will  pay  for  the 
trouble ;  and  w^here,  if  a  man  invests  in  a  lot,  he 
can  be  sure  of  realizing  something  worth  while 
from  the  investment.  Here,  you  see,  is  Main 
Street,"  running  his  finger  down  the  centre. 
"This  is  our  principal  business  avenue.  Here 
are  our  largest  stores,  storehouses,  warehouses, 


JOHN   tower's    town.  213 

and  the  like,  you  understand,  as  have  all  great 
commercial  centres.  Just  here,  sir,  our  steam- 
mills  are  going  up.  Not  yet  erected,  you  under- 
stand ;  but  the  companies  are  formed,  and  I  have 
letters  in  my  pocket  stating  that  they  will  be  on 
in  the  course  of  a  week  or  two.  Plenty  of  capi- 
tal, you  see  ;  some  of  the  stockholders  old  friends 
of  mine,  schoolmates,  stirring  men,  who  know 
just  how  to  put  things  through.  Two  railroads 
have  been  surveyed  and  staked  out,  which  take 
our  place  on  the  way.  One  we  are  sure  of,  both 
are  probable.  You  can  see  at  a  glance,  sir, 
what  the  rise  of  land  will  be  when  these  improve- 
ments are  completed.  Our  town  lies  on  the 
direct  line  from  Dubuque  to  St.  Paul.  Nature 
intended  a  railroad  shpuld  -go  there  —  the  only 
possible  route,  indeed.  Any  one  can  see  that 
who  will  take  the  trouble  to  examine  the  make  of 
the  land.  I  lay  this  matter  before  you  to  give 
you  a  chance  in  the  town.  We  want  a  minister, 
sir.  I  learn  that  you  are  one.  I  believe  in  the 
institutions  of  the  gospel  for  a  new  place ;  calls 
in,  you  see,  the  best  class  of  settlers,  and  makes 
them  contented.  Our  well-to-do,  reliable  emi- 
grants are  generally  brought  up  to  be  religious, 
and  cannot  do  without  schools  and  churches.  I've 
watched  this  thing,  and  know  that  the  coming 
of  a  clergyman  into  a  young  town  is  often  the 
making   of   it;  real  estate   always  rises.      And 


214  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

now,  sir,  what  say  you  to  casting  your  lot  in  with 
us?  I'll  give  you  an  extra  chance.  Just  say 
that  you'll  agree  to  put  up  a  house,  and  I'll  pledge 
myself  to  give  you  two  of  the  best  lots  on  the 
plat." 

There  are  few  things  more  interesting  than  the 
springing  up  of  a  young  town  on  the  frontier. 
Like  the  embryo  plant,  it  is  very  small  at  first  — 
a  few  cabin  homes  —  while  all  around  are  broad 
prairies  and  thick  woods,  where  may  be  seen  the 
fresh  trail  of  the  Indian.  Persons  whose  days 
have  been  spent  in  some  long-settled  locality, 
where  generations  come  and  go,  and  things  re- 
main much  the  same,  if  told  that  yonder  cabin, 
with  its  blacksmith  shop  near  by,  and  log  tavern, 
constitute  the  germ  of  a  town,  and  lots  were  of- 
fered them  for  sale  in  that  rough  solitude,  would 
laugh  in  your  face.  But  a  year  passes,  and,  per- 
haps, how  changed  the  scene  !  As  if  by  enchant- 
ment, the  cabins  are  gone,  and  framed  houses, 
stores,  mills,  churches,  occupy  their  places. 

Such  a  place  was  E .     When  Mr.  Parsons 

first  happened  there,  he  put  up  at  the  little,  un- 
couth, log  tavern,  the  only  building  in  the  place. 
The  table  was  of  picnic  style,  made  of  unplaned 
boards.  In  place  of  chairs  was  a  bench  of  slabs 
and  stakes.  After  dinner  he  started  out  for  a 
walk,  to  view  the  town,  thinking  he  was  in  its 
suburbs.     The  proprietor  joined  him. 


JOHN   tower's    town.  21^ 

**  Where  13  the  town  ?  "  asked  the  guest. 

"This  is  it,"  was  the  reply. 

"But,"  said  the  missionary,  "where  are  the 
people,   and  the  buildings?" 

"  Well,"  replied  the  landlord,  "it's  true,  when 
you  see  my  cabin,  you  see  all  there  is  now ;  but 
let  me  tell  you,  it  won't  be  a  great  while  before 
the  people  are  here,  and  the  buildings  too.  You 
are  going  farther  on  the  frontier ;  let  me  advise 
you  to  stop  here,  and  put  you  up  a  house." 

The  clergyman,  at  that  period  in  his  personal 
history,  was  unwesternized,  and  the  forcibly  ut- 
tered advocacy  of  this  advice  which  followed  he 
listened  to  very  much  as  he  would  to  the  exag- 
gerations of  the  auctioneer ;  and,  turning  on  his 
heel,  he  left  him  to  his  day-dreams. 

In  one  year  and  a  half  from  that  time,  how- 
ever, having  business  that  way,  he  returned ;  and 
there  stood  a  conspicuous,  well-grown  town,  in 
appearance,  at  least,  ten  years  of  age.  Two 
handsome  hotels,  a  stone  school-house,  stores, 
tasteful  dwellings,  streets  well  laid  out,  and  alive 
with  teams  and  the  din  of  the  business  mart, 
filled  him  with  pleased  surprise  ;  and  as  his  Yan- 
kee friend  —  the  proprietor — introduced  him  to 
the  realization  of  his  expectations,  and  told  him  he 
left  Massachusetts  overwhelmed  with  debt,  when 
he  saw  the  competency  he  had  acquired  since 
he  put  up  his  cabin  tavern,  the  guest's  views  of 


2l6  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

him  and  his  schemes  underwent  a  sudden  revo- 
lution. 

There  was  D ,  also.     A  stage-load,  one  of 

whom  was  our  clergyman,  fresh  from  the  Mis- 
sissippi, stopped  there  one  night.  After  tea  they 
walked  out  to  see  the  "  lay  of  the  land,"  and  in 
their  stroll  many  a  sharp  joke  was  cracked  at 
the  young  town's  expense.  Along  the  margin 
of  a  small,  shallow  stream  stood  a  few  cottages 
and  cabins,  among  which  was  one  shanty-tavern  ; 
and  these  constituted  the  place.  Speckled  trout 
peeped  out  at  them  from  shady  nooks  with  a  bold- 
ness unknown  in  waters  where  the  angler's  bait 
is  often  thrown.  Flocks  of  quails  piped  in  the 
long  grass,  and  prairie  hens  ran  fluttering  in 
their  path,  guiding  their  helpless  broods.  A 
friend  of  his,  a  shrewd  Vermont  farmer,  who  had 
two  hundred  dollars  spare  money,  which  he 
wished  to  invest  to  the  best  advantage,  was  be- 
sought, almost  with  tears,  by  one  of  the  settlers, 
to  take  his  cottage,  eight  acres  of  land,  and  im- 
provements, for  that  sum,  assuring  him  that  he 
would  realize  something  handsome  for  it ;  that 
he  had  confidence  in  the  growth  of  the  town,  but 
was  too  homesick  to  remain.  The  Vermonter 
knowingly  shook  his  head  at  the  urgent  offer, 
and  passed  on.  He  lived,  however,  to  regret  it, 
for  in  less  than  two  years  from  that  time  four 
acres  of  that  land  sold  for  eight  thousand  dollars. 


JOHN   TOWERS   TOWN.  217 

With  these  and  similar  instances  in  mind,  the 
missionary  was  disposed  to  listen  candidly  to  the 
representations  of  his  caller,  although  he  had 
heard  of  "  paper  towns." 

One  day,  some  two  years  later,  Mr.  J ,  a 

gray-haired  man  of  sixty  years,  called  on  the  mis- 
sionary at  L ,  and  taking  him  mysteriously 

aside,  asked  if  he  would  come  to  N ,  some  tive 

miles  distant,  and  perform  the  marriage  rite  for 
him,  the  next  day? 

He  requested  the  affair  to  be  kept  a  profound 
secret,  I  suppose  from  fear  of  a  celebration  of  the 
event  by  certain  young  men,  who  claimed  the  priv- 
ilege of  making  night  hideous  with  blowing  tin 
horns,  firing  guns,  and  other  discordances,  when- 
ever a  bachelor  or  widower  entered  into  matri- 
mony. 

Keeping  the  secret,  however,  was  no  light  task, 
for  the  devoted  bridegroom  had  already  adver- 
tised the  condition  of  his  affairs  by  his  attentive 
courtship  ;  and  as  he  was  seen  to  call  at  "  the  min- 
ister's,"—  an  unwonted  thing  for  him,  —  he  had, 
quite  innocently,  "let  grimalkin  out  of  the  reti- 
cule." To  save  him  from  annoyance,  it  became 
necessary  for  the  divine,  if  possible,  to  put  the 
cat  back  again. 

He  discovered  this  when  he  went  to  get  a  horse 
for  the  occasion.  The  young  man  who  had  the 
care  of  the  stable  filled  also  the  office  of  village 


2l8  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

gossip,  and,  as  he  curried  the  horse,  asked,  with 
an  air  oddly  compounded  of  the  deferential  and 
impudent,  — 

"  Who's  going  to  be  married  now^  Mr.  Par- 
sons ?  " 

The  clergyman's  silence  did  not  disconcert 
him,  and  he  added, — 

"  /  think  old  J 's  a  little  too  old  to  marry 

again ;  but  they  do  say  he'll  git  a  fust-rate  wife, 
though.     What  do  you  think?  " 

"  Is  Mr.  J going  to  be  married  ?  "  asked  the 

minister,  parrying  the  attack. 

"  I  don't  know  who  knows  if  you  don't !  "  he 
returned,  laughing  loudly ;  and  then,  leaving  his 
horse  tied  at  the  halter  ring,  he  entered  the  tav- 
ern,—  it  was  the  dinner  hour,  —  and  announced 
to  the  people  at  table  that  "  the  minister  had  come 
for  a  horse  to  go  down  and  marry  old  J ." 

The  news  flew  over  the  village  like  wildfire, 
and  having  a  presentiment  that,  to  make  assur- 
ance   doubly  sure,  the   curious   would   watch  to 

see  if  he  w^ent  towards  Mr.  J 's,  the  minister 

mounted  and  rode  slowly  through  the  town  in  the 
opposite  direction.  Skirting  some  heavy  woods 
by  a  generous  circuit,  he  had  struck  a  road  lead- 
ing to  Mr.  J 's,   when,  just  in  the   fork,  his 

attention  was  taken  by  two  men  engaged  in  put- 
ting up  a  guide-post,  on  which  was  neatly  let- 
tered, "  Prairie    City,    15  Miles  "  —  the   index 


JOHN    TOWERS    TOWN.  219 

hand  pointing  in  the  direction  of  his  ride.  One 
of  the  men  turned  to  look  at  him.  It  was  the 
proprietor  of  Prairie  City,  who  at  once  came  for- 
ward, and  was  soon  arguing  again  the  claims  of 
his  town. 

"  We  are  going  ahead  nicely,"  said  he  ;  "  pros- 
pects never  better.  But  we  want  a  minister. 
Haven't  found  one  yet.  Just  agree  to  put  up  a 
house  among  us,  and  you  shall  have  two  hand- 
some lots,  as  I  said  before." 

Having  little  time  for  conversation,  the  cler- 
gyman left  him,  his  parting  words  being  eloquent 
in  advocacy  of  his  "  city." 

The  wedding  was  to  be  at  the  dwelling  of  the 
bride,  a  widow  of  fifty. 

Her  snug  cabin  showed  marks  of  the  thorough 
housekeeper.  Order  was  supreme,  and  she  was 
its  living  embodiment.  Each  article  of  dress, 
from  the  starched  dress-cap  to  the  shoes  she 
wore,  fitted  with  exactness  ;  and  whether  she  sat, 
walked,  talked,  or  was  silent,  she  was  prim  and 
precise.  A  most  estimable  woman  she  was,  too, 
and  I  scarcely  wondered  at  the  devotion  of  the 
bridegroom. 

Many  years  had  passed  since  death  took  from 
him  his  loved  companion,  leading  him  at  last, 
sad  and  lonely,  to  leave  his  desolate  New  Eng- 
land home,  where  every  object  reminded  him  of 
the  departed,  and  seek  to  forget  his  bereavement 


220  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

amid  the  exciting  scenes  and  vicissitudes  of  the 
frontier. 

He  preempted  a  "one-hundred-and-sixty-acre  " 
farm,  well  balanced  in  prairie  and  timber ;  fenced 
and  ploughed,  and  planted  largely ;  fitted  him 
up  a  cabin;  read  the  eastern  papers;  smoked, 
chewed  tobacco ;  lounged  in  the  village  store  for 
society;  grew  careless  in  his  personal  habits, 
and  very  irritable.  What  was  the  matter?  He 
missed  the  gentle  presence  of  woman,  and  the 
solitude  of  his  western  home  became  more  and 
more  irksome. 

He  was  a  mere  man  of  the  world,  quick-tem- 
pered, and,  of  late,  when  angered,  shockingly 
profane.  He  had  not,  by  his  presence  in  the  place 
of  prayer,  manifested  the  least  interest  in  the 
higher  wants  of  the  soul,  and  Mr.  Parsons  was 
glad  to  find  the  bride  elect  to  be  a  lady  of  piety, 
and  much  weight  of  character — a  circumstance 
in  which  the  bridegroom  took  great  pride,  show- 
ing that,  hard  and  irreligious  as  he  seemed,  her 
upright  christianly  qualities  had  much  to  do  in 
influencing  his  choice.  Indeed,  he  evinced,  on 
his  part,  a  sincere  sense  of  unworthiness  for  such 
an  alliance,  seeming  to  realize  that  morally  there 
was  a  great  gulf  between  them  ;  and  there  was  a 
nervous  anxiety  with  him,  lest,  somehow,  he 
should  lose  the  prize.  Ah,  woman  without  good- 
ness the  wicked  man  shudders  at  as  a  monstrosi- 
ty ;  woman  with  piety  the  profligate  adores. 


JOHN   TOWERS   TOWN.  221 

The  ceremony  was  to  be  in  the  early  after- 
noon, and  to  be  followed  by  the  usual  wedding 
repast.  The  missionary,  however,  had  been  in 
the  room  but  a  short  time,  when  he  saw  that 
something  was  going  wrong.  The  bridegroom 
looked  anxious,  and  the  family  friends  embar- 
rassed.      Mr.   J himself  stated   the   cause. 

He  had  omitted  to  procure  from  the  justice  the 
legal  right  to  be  married.  That  officer  lived 
miles  away,  and  could  not  then  be  found.  Mr. 
J was  unreconciled  to  a  delay  of  the  cere- 
mony. 

"Well,  then,  let  us  step  over  the  state  line!" 
he  exclaimed  !  "  it's  only  three  quarters  of  a  mile  ; 
the  law  '11  let  us  be  married  there  without  any 
preliminaries.     Many  a  couple  has  done  that ! " 

But  the  lady  would  consent  to  no  irregularity. 
She  would  wait  a  week  to  be  sure  that  every  step 
was  taken  with  due  deliberation.  So  the  bride- 
groom must  needs  make  the  best  of  the  matter, 
and,  with  a  disconsolate  face,  helped  dispose  of 
the  nice  edibles  that  had  been  prepared  for  the 
wedding. 

"How  shall  I  find  my  way  to  Prairie  City?" 
said  Mr.  Parsons  to  one  of  the  sons,  who  had 
followed  him  to  the  gate,  as  he  was  leaving. 
"  As  I  haven't  had  the  pleasure  of  marrying  any- 
body, I  guess  I'll  ride  over  there  and  see  the 
place.      And   there's   a   family   named   Willard 


22i  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

somewhere  in  this  region.  Very  likely  they  are 
over  there  —  so  much  has  been  said  about  the 
town  !  " 

"  Prairie  City,"  slowly  repeated  the  young  man. 
"  I  don't  know  of  any  such  place  about  here." 

"  But  I  passed  a  guide-board  to-day  which  said, 
'  Prairie  City,  fifteen  miles,'  and  the  hand  pointed 
in  this  direction." 

"  O,"  said  he,  "you  mean  Mr.  Tower's  town. 
Well,  I've  never  been  over  there.  It's  off  the 
main  road.  Follow  that  track  round  the  woods 
yonder,  and  keep  straight  across  the  prairie,  and 
it's  about  ten  miles,  I  reckon ;  but  you'll  4iave  to 
inquire." 

The  road  was  a  lonely  one,  leading  away 
from  the  settlements,  which  were  mostly  contig- 
uous to  the  timber  land.  Mr.  Parsons's  imagi- 
nation enlivened  the  loneliness  with  pictures  of 
the  flourishing  place  to  which  he  was  going. 
He  could  almost  see  its  magic  growth,  and  hear 
the  din  of  its  busy  population  ;  and  on,  on  he 
rode,  until  he  began  to  wonder  that  the  "  city  " 
did  not  come  in  sight,  thinkirg  he  must  have 
gone  more  than  the  distance  specified.  He  was 
relieved  at  seeing  a  cabin  near  by,  and  rode  up 
to  inquire.  It  stood  alone  in  the  vast  solitude, 
with  no  living  creature  about,  save  a  lame  old 
skeleton  horse,  spiritlessly  nibbling  at  the  grass 
as  he  hobbled  around.    The  building  had  recent- 


JOHN    TOWER  S    TOWN.  223 

ly  been  occupied ;  for  what  purpose,  and  by 
whom,  in  such  a  doleful  place,  it  was  hard  to 
guess  ;  but  the  inmates  were  away.  So,  driving 
on,  again  a  cabin  appeared. 

"  Where  is  Prairie  City  ?  "  he  shouted  to  a  man 
lounging  in  the  doorway. 

"No  sich  place  about  here,  as  I  knows  on," 
was  the  reply. 

"  Is  there  a  man  by  the  name  of  Tower  living 
anwhere  in  this  region?" 

"Tower,  John  Tower?  Why,  sir,  you  came 
by  his  cabin  more'n  three  miles  back." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  the  log  house  that 
stands  all  alone,  out  on  the  prairie  there,  is  Mr. 
Tower's  place  !  He  told  me  he'd  started  a  town 
there  !  " 

"  Anything  but  started^  I  reckon,  stranger  ;  but 
you  ken  see  for  yourself." 

"Mr.  Parsons,"  cried  a  young  man,  hurrying 
through  the  hazel  bushes  to  head  off  the  mis- 
sionary's horse,  as  he  w^as  returning  to  town,  "  so 
old  J 's  married,  after  all  — isn't  he?" 

"Ah  !"  said  the  clergyman  ;  "I  am  not  aware 
that  he  is  married.     When  did  the  event  occur?" 

"Why,  didn't  you  marry  him?" 

"No." 

"  That's  what  I  call  sharp,  for_a  minister,"  said 


224  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

the  man  of  the  stable,  as  he  took  the  clergyman's 
horse  —  "going  way  round  them  woods  jest  to 
throw  folks  off  the  track  !  But  you  married  old 
J ,  after  all ;  I  know  that !  " 

"  How  do  you  know  it?  " 

"  Why,  you  see,  says  I  to  myself,  says  I,  Mr. 
Parsons  has  gone  that  way  jest  for  a  blind.     So 

I  jest  took  a    ride   down  to  old  J 's  to  make 

observations ;   and  sure  enough,  there  you  was, 

over  to  widow  K 's,  the  family  dressed  up  in 

their  Sunday  best,  ready  for  the  wedding.  Folks 
has  got  to  get  up  afore  day  to  git  ahead  of  this 
child.  I  told  'em  all  that  you've  married  the 
old  widower." 

"  But  I  have  not  married  him  !  " 

"You  haven't!"  he  replied,  quite  crestfallen; 
then,    rallying,   added,   "  well,    I'm    really   glad 

on't.     Why,  there's   his   daughter,   Mrs.  L , 

has  w^orried  herself  sick  about  it.  She  don't  ap- 
prove of  the  old  man's  marrying ;  and  I  guess 
there's  no  love  lost  between  'em,  they  differ  so  on 
this  matter.  She's  up  to  the  town  now,  and  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  she  hails  you,  to  know  jest 
how  the  thing  stands." 

He  was  right.  As  the  missionary  was  passing 
a  shop,  Mrs.  L came  out,  and  said, — 

"  Mr.  Parsons,  some  say  you've  been  down  to 
marry  my  father,  and  some  say  you  have  not.  I 
tell  them,  if  it  is  so,  I  know  nothing  about  it,  for 


JOHN    TOWERS    TOWN.  225 

father  hasn't  said  a  word  to  me.  But  I  wish  you 
would  tell  me,  that  I  may  know  what  to  believe. 
Did  you  marry  him?" 

"  No,  madam,  I  did  not." 

"  There  !  "  triumphantly  cried  Mrs.  Cowles, 
the  shopkeeper's  wife,  from  the  door.  ^  I  told 
you  so  !  Didn't  I  sit  by  that  window  and  watch 
to  see  which  way  the  minister  went?     He  didn't 

go  towards  old  J 's  at  all,  but  right  towards 

Sallie  Nason's,  and  he  was  seen  on  the  road  to 
her  house.  I  don't  object  to  folks  marrying,  but 
I  don't  see  the  use  of  being  so  sly  about  it." 

"  Can  you  tell  me,"  said  Mr.  Parsons  to  a 
friend,  "  anything  about  this  Mr.  Tower,  who 
says  he  is  starting  a  town  some  fifteen  miles  from 
here?  I  see  he  has  been  putting  up  guide-boards 
of  late.     Has  he  capital  for  such  an  enterprise?" 

"  You  can  judge,"  was  the  reply.  "  He  called 
on  me  yesterday  with  an  old  silver  watch,  worth 
not  more  than  five  dollars,  which  he  wished  to 
sell  or  pawn,  in  order  to  get  food  for  his  family. 
I  suppose  he  wanted  you  to  say  you  would  come- 
to  'Prairie  City?'  Well,  it  would  have  sold 
lois  to  his  eastern  correspondents  !  " 

"  Father,"  exclaimed   Mr.  Parsons's  little  boy, 
one  delicious   Sunday    morning,    two  weeks  af- 
ter  the  incidents  just   narrated,  "there's  a  large 
double  wagon  driving  towards  the  house,  filled 
15 


226  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

with  folks.  I  guess  somebody's  coming  to  get 
married ! " 

True  enough.     On  board  seats  placed   across 

the  huge  open  vehicle  were  Mr.  J and  bride, 

with  a  goodly  company  in  their  best  attire  and 
very  smiling  laces.  It  was  only  an  hour  to  ser- 
vice, and  they  had  ridden  through  the  main 
street  of  the  village  to  the  clergyman's  house  — 

sufficient  evidence  that  Mr.  J had  lost  his 

fear  of  pubHcity,  and  now  preferred  an  open  to  a 
clandestine  marriage  —  a  change  due,  no  doubt, 
to  the  good  sense  of  his  excellent  and  dignified 
lady.  Mr.  Parsons  took  this  as  a  happy  omen, 
and  after  uniting  them  in  the  holy  bonds,  said,  — 

"  Mr.  J ,  it  is  nearly  time  for  meeting.     Let 

me  invite  you  and  your  friends  to  go  with  me  to 
the  house  of  prayer.  It  would  be  a  fitting  begin- 
ning to  your  married  life  —  one  I  am  sure  that 
your  estimable  wife  would  approve.  Is  it  not  so, 
madam?  " 

"  O,  yes,"  she  replied,  with  a  grateful  look. 

'^Besides,"  he  added,  "I  am  to  preach  on  mar- 
riage this  morning,  and  it  will  be  a  pleasant  co- 
incidence to  have  you  as  hearers,  after  having  just 
made  you  one." 

He  cheerfully  iassented,  and  the  missionary 
spoke  from  the  text,  "  Blessed  are  they  which  are 
called  to  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb."  Mr. 
J listened  tearfully,  and  his  wife,  it  was  eviy 


A   WEDDING    TOUR.  227 

dent,  lifted  up  her  heart  in  silent  prayer  for  a  bless- 
ing on  the  word. 

I  scarcely  need  add  that  the  husband's  antici- 
pations of  a  "  serenade  "  were  not  realized.  His 
wife  was  too  much  respected;  and  the  manly,  de- 
corous course  pursued  when  the  marriage  was  at 
last  solemnized  was  a  sufficient  protection. 

But  what   is   a  wedding  without  a  "  wedding 

tour  "  ?    Happy  Mr.  J ,  desiring  to  please  his 

bride  by  omitting  none  of  the  proprieties  of  the 
event,  invited  her  to  accompany  him  to  the  Mis- 
sissippi. With  an  eye  to  business  as  well  as  en- 
joyment, he  used  for  the  journey  the  capacious 
wagon  in  which  he  came  to  be  married,  as  it 
would  enable  him  to  bring  back  groceries  for  the 
neighbors,  and  also  passengers,  and  thus  pay  the 
expense  of  the  trip,  and  perchance  earn  a  penny 
besides. 

Twice  sixty  miles,  over  rolling,  roadless  prai- 
ries, broken  at  times  by  rough  ravines ;  on  seats 
of  oaken  boards  laid  across  the  wagon,  —  think 
of  that  for  a  bridal  trip  ! 

Returning,  several  couple  occupied  seats  be- 
hind the  owner  of  the  team  and  his  bride.  Now, 
there  being  no  springs  under  the  seats,  when  the 
going  was  very  uneven  the  jolting  was  violent 
and  unsafe,  obliging  the  lady  passengers  to  cling 
to  their  lords  or  be    shaken   from   the  vehicle. 


228  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Mrs.  J ,  however,  disapproving  of  such  pub- 
lic freedom,  and  disdaining  support,  sat  bolt  up- 
right and  self-reliant.  Hold  on  by  her  husband 
—  not  she  ! 

But  "  dignity  of  character  "  is  not  an  infallible 
protection  against  accidents.  By  and  by  came  a 
prodigious  lurch.     There  was  a  flutter  of  white 

near  the  bridegroom,  and  stately  Mrs.  J was 

sent  flying  through  the  air,  and  plumped  down 
among  the  prairie  grass  like  a  downy  pillow. 

Her  husband  did  not  turn  to  look  at  her,  or 
inquire  if  she  was  injured,  nor  dismount  to  assist 
her  in  —  he  held  her  in  too  much  awe.  Silent- 
ly he  reined  in  the  horses,  gazing  meanwhile 
straight  ahead  into  vacancy,  till  she  had  with  her 
snowy  kerchief  smoothed  her  disordered  apparel, 
and  composedly  ascended  to  her  place.  Then 
he  dutifully  drove  on. 

Pain,  however,  will  conquer  both  the  mascu- 
line and  feminine  will,  and  overcome  even  a  mis- 
taken sense  of  propriety.  The  passengers  were 
scarcely  well  out  of  the  perilous  ravines,  and  on 
the  smooth  prairie,  when  a  groan  issued  from 
the  bride's  unwilling  lips.  The  husband  dutiful- 
ly forbore  to  notice  it.  Another,  then  another, 
/ising  almost  to  a  scream,  broke  forth.  She  had 
sprained  an  ankle,  and  the  intense  pain  was  too 
great  to  be  borne.  A  mile  at  the  left  was  a 
cabin.     Driving  there,  the  efiicient  settler's  wife 


A   WEDDING    TOUR.  2^9 

was  busy  binding  a  soothing  and  healing  lotion 
on  the  foot,  when  voices  of  men  in  altercation 
arose  outside. 

"'Twas  you  that  took  it,  you  rascal ;  there  wass 
nobody  else  in  our  settlement  mean  enough  to 
steal.     Hand  it  over  ;  quick,  too  !  " 

The  passengers  rushed  to  the  door  in  time  to 

see  old  Mr.  J seize  a  man  by  the  collar,  and 

the  latter,  with  a  powerful  blow  of  his  fist,  strike 
the  gray-haired  bridegroom  to  the  ground,  then, 
with  astonishing  agility,  bound  away  towards  the 
ravines. 

It  was  Mr.  Grey,  alias  Simmons,  alias  Grimes, 
on  his  way  to  the  pirates'  rendezvous. 

"If  I  had  my  rifle  here,  and  my  sight  was 
what  it  once  was,  I'd  put  an  eend  to  his  villanles 
quick  's  I'd  bullet  a  panther,"  exclaimed  the 
fuming  bridegroom,  with  an  oath,  as  he  reached 
the  cabin  door. 

"Don't  swear,  husband,"  gently  interposed  his 
wife ;  and  dropping  his  head  for  shame,  he  as- 
sisted her  into  the  wagon,  and  resumed  the 
journey   home. 


230  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    WRONG    CABIN.  THE    COUPLE   UNDER    THE 

UMBRELLA. 

"  Little  Hunchy  "  tracked  Simmons,  other- 
wise Grimes,  to  the  town  of  L ;  saw  him  en- 
ter the  village  store  ;  come  out  from  thence  ;  pass 
northward  along  the  main  street,  and,  just  over 
the  village  plat,  disappear  in  a  better-class  log 
house  —  the  home,  he  afterwards  learned,  of 
Rev.  Mr.  Parsons,  the  missionary. 

The  dwarf  then  went  into  the  shop.  On  the 
counter,  his  shapely  legs  pendent  therefrom,  sat 
the  proprietor.  A  number  of  men  were  grouped 
near  by,  smoking  and  discussing  local  politics. 
At  the  Hunchback's  entrance,  conversation  grad- 
ually fell  off,  the  loafers,  with  curious  stare  and 
•rough  humor,  greeting  the  advent  of  the  mis- 
shapen young  stranger. 

"  Wellj  squatty,  what  will  you  have?"  asked 
the  grocer. 

"That  is  not  my  name,"  said  the  dwarf. 

"Excuse  me,"  replied  the  dealer;  "I  was  not 
aware  you  owned  any  other." 

"  If  that's  not  his  name,  it's  his  nalur"  said  a 
by  sitter,  with  a  wink  at  the  company. 


THfi   WRONG   CABIN.  23 1 

**  rd  thank  3^ou  to  speak  when  you're  spoken 
to,"  retorted  the  Hunchback,  losing  his  temper. 

"  Ah,"  ejaculated  the  other,  offended  in  turn, 
"  you're  sassy  as  you're  homely.  If  you  wern't 
so  small,  now,  I'd  tweak  your  nose  —  if  you  had 
one  —  but  you  hain't !  " 

"  Gentlemen,"  remarked  the  grocer,  "  we  have 
no  legal  or  moral  right  to  insult  the  little  fellow 
because  he  was  spoilt  in  the  making;  and  for  my 
part  I  like  his  grit ;  if  he  don't  look  out  for  him- 
self, everybody  will  tread  on  him." 

"  That's  so,"  responded  several. 

"  What'U  you  have?  "  he  again  interrogated. 

"  Nothing,"  answered  the  dwarf.  "  I  came  in 
to  rest  a  moment." 

"  Well,  you  look  as  if  it  wouldn't  hurt  you,  to 
be  sure.  John,  bring  a  chair  from  the  other  room 
for  this  crooked  mortal !  " 

The  Hunchback  seated  himself,  and  gazed 
around.  The  color  rushed  to  his  sallow-pale 
cheeks.  On  the  wall  at  the  end  of  the  apart- 
ment was  a  conspicuous  poster,  ornamented  with 
the  figures  of  a  fiery  charger  and  a  man  holding 
him  by  the  bridle.  And  at  the  top  of  the  hand- 
bill was  printed,  in  bold  type,  — 

FIFTY  DOLLARS   REWARD ! 

The  circular  commenced  with,  "Stolen  from 
the  subscriber,"  the  description  that  followed  of 


232  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

the  purloined  horse  corresponding  precisely  to 
the  one  Mr.  Simmons  had  left  in  the  care  of  Fer- 
die  and  Georgie. 

"  Fifty  dollars  !  "  mentally  echoed  the  dwarf; 
"  if  I  can  only  get  that  for  mother  to  buy  land 
with  ! " 

With  his  excessive  weariness  his  confidence 
had  ebbed  somewhat.  But  the  offered  reward 
raised  his  spirits,  and,  embracing  an  opportunity, 
he  warily  questioned  Mr.  Cowles  concerning  Mr. 
Simmons ;  and  finding  that  the  shrewd  trader 
sympathized  in  his  idea  of  Mr.  Simmons's  char- 
acter, he  related  all  he  knew  of  him. 

Mr.  Cowles  was  interested  and  excited. 

^^  Mind  is  the  measure  of  the  man,"  said  he, 
emphasizing  the  first  word,  "  as  Dr.  Watts 
expressed  it;  and  you're  a  thundering  illus- 
tration of  the  truth  of  the  remark.  How  you 
followed  the  serpent !  And,  my  lad,  don't 
you  fret;  I'll  see  Edmonds  about  that  hay, 
and  if  anybody  gets  the  money  for  it  it  shall 
be  you." 

"You  won't  say  anything  so  that  it  will  get  to 
Simmons*s  ear?" 

"  When  you  catch  a  weasel  asleep,"  replied  the 
grocer.  "  You'll  pocket  the  fifty  dollars  for  the 
horse  —  that's  my  opinion.  Can  you  be  here 
Thursday?  Simmons  has  a  case  at  court  then, 
and  we  are  preparing  to  deal  out  to  him,  on  that 


THE   WRONG   CABIN.  233 

occasion,  his  deserts.  Bring  along  your  mother 
or  aunt,  and  the  beast.  Till  then  I'll  keep  mum. 
Simmons,  as  you  call  him,  is  living  on  the  mis- 
sionary. I'll  see  that  the  fellow  don't  visit  your 
diggings  till  after  the  trial  —  then  he  won't  care 
to."  Then,  pushing  the  dwarf  with  warm-hearted 
familiarity  before  him  into  the  housekeeping  part 
of  the  establishment,  he  called  out,  — 

"  Here,  wife,  give  this  big-soul-and-little-body 
a  bite  to  eat,  and  a  bed  to-night  for  head  and 
back  —  he  won't  need  any  for  his  legs." 

The  dwarf  turned  his  face  towards  home  next 
day,  lightened  of  a  load  of  apprehension,  care, 
and  solicitude.  Victory  over  the  wiles  of  a  heart- 
less villain  was  assured.  Instead  of  dantjer  and 
pecuniary  loss,  he  had  secured  protection  from  the 
threatening  peril,  and  there  was  a  strong  proba- 
bility that  a  nice  sum  would  be  realized  for  the 
family.  These  considerations  imparted  a  helpful 
impulse  to  his  weak  limbs  as  he  walked ;  yet  he 
was  more  conscious  of  the  toilsomeness  of  the 
journey,  now  that  he  was  alone,  and  the  urgency 
of  the  extremity  no  longer  existed.  How  much 
are  the  best  of  us  creatures  of  circumstances  ! 

Lamed  from  yesterday's  exertions,  the  hours 
dragged  wofully,  and  he  seemed  to  have  made 
exceedingly  poor  progress,  he  thought,  as  certain 
marked  spots  did  not  appear.  There,  for  exam- 
ple, was  the  creek  crossing,  where  the  two  out- 


234  "^^^   YOUNG    PIOT^EERS. 

laws  met,  —  surely  he  ought  to  have  reached  it, 
—  yet  it  was  not  even  dipcernible  in  the  distance. 
He  had  no  misgivings  as  to  his  abihty  to  retrace 
the  route.  Had  he  not,  coming,  studied  the  face 
of  the  prairies  for  this  very  purpose?  More- 
over, he  could  guide  his  course  by  the  wind  and 
sun. 

But,  son;ehow,  the  monotonous  meadows  were 
increasingly  unfamiliar.  And  the  creek,  did  it 
mockingly  retire  as  he  advanced?  By  and  by 
he  paused  in  suspense.  Then  he  glanced  to  note 
the  position  of  the  sun.  But  the  heavens  were 
covered  with  clouds.  How  absent-minded  he 
had  been  !  What  about  the  wind?  Ah,  by  that 
he  must  be  right  in  the  main.  Perhaps  he  had 
veered  a  trifle, —  enough  to  miss  that  jutting  angle 
of  the  creek,  —  and  he  would  strike  the  stream 
farther  along. 

This  conclusion  settled  his  doubts  ;  yet  he  urged 
his  way  with  a  nervous  eagerness  that  betrayed 
anxiety  to  behold  the  proof  of  the  correctness  of 
his  reasoning. 

But  the  coveted  creek  did  not  cheer  his  strained 
sight.  Travel  as  confidently  and  energetically 
as  he  might,  the  babbling  brook  broke  not  on 
his  longing  vision. 

Soon,  however,  there  was  abundance  of  water. 
But  it  descended  from  above.  Patter,  patter, 
came   the  pioneer  drops.     Then  the  air  was   a 


THE    WRONG    CABIN.  235 

liquid  sea.  How  it  poured  —  torrent  joined  to 
torrent !  Had  the  upper  ocean  fallen  through  ? 
Now  heaven's  artillery,  discharged  by  electric 
lire,  roared,  and  rumbled,  and  rolled,  as  if  can- 
non balls  of  mountain  weight  were  propelled 
around  the  aerial  pavement.  And  how  the  chain- 
lightning  flashes  zigzagged  ! 

Heroic  dwarf,  however,  nursed  a  stubborn 
will.  Panting,  drenched,  the  water  running  in 
streams  through  his  soaked  cap  over  his  face, 
into  his  bosom  and  back,  —  an  animated  mote  of 
mortality  on  a  watery  waste,  —  he  fought  the 
elements,  sure,  soon,  of  shelter. 

But  the  creek,  where  could  it  be?  Perhaps 
he  had  waded  some  shallow  ford  unconsciously, 
the  plains  were  so  submerged.  Ah,  yes,  it  is 
even  so.  Joy  !  there's  the  cabin  light !  Thrice 
welcome,  beaming  taper,  lighting  the  weary  wan- 
derer home  !  But  how  queerly  the  storm  trans- 
figures objects  !  Those  trees  do  not  resemble  the 
straight  growths  of  the  Willard  grove.  And  the 
dwelling,  what  is  the  matter  with  it? 

"  Ferdie  !  Georgie  !  "  he  piped,  pressing  to- 
wards the  homely  yet  loved  domicile.  "  Mother  ! 
Aunt  Esther!"  " 

No  answer.  But  how  could  he  hope  his  feeble 
tones  would  be  heard  in  such  a  wild  tumult? 

"  What  a  flash ! "  he  exclaimed,  stopping 
aghast ;  "  and  such  a  report?  "     He  fairly  reeled 


236  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

with  the  shock.  Simultaneously  with  the  mighty 
crash,  a  giant  tree  burst  into  flame.  The  red 
bolt  had  smitten  it.  In  the  light  of  the  lurid 
glare,  he  looked  to  see  if  the  dear  cabin  was  un- 
harmed. 

He  started  as  if  a  second  bolt  had  smitten 
him.  A  wretched  loggery,  unknown  to  him, 
stood  there.  He  had  lost  his  way.  The  dem- 
onstration almost  paralyzed  him,  so  unexpected 
and  appalling. 

"  But,"  thought  he,  rallying,  "  how  much  bet- 
ter off  I  am  than  if  I  had  found  no  dwelHng, 
and  been  obliged  to  spend  the  night  on  the  bare 
prairie  !  Besides,  no  doubt  the  occupants  of 
the  hovel  will  in  the  morning  direct  me  how  to 
find  the  right  course." 

And  with  rekindled  hope,  he  knocked  at  the 
rude  door.  Hearing  a  reply  within,  the  words 
of  which  he  did  not  distinguish,  taking  it  for 
granted  to  be  an  invitation  to  enter,  he  passed 
within. 

It  was  one  of  the  wretchedest  of  structures  — 
low,  half-roofed,  every  way  uncomfortable  and 
unsightly.  The  one  confined  room  was  fur- 
nished with  two  "wildcat"  bedsteads,  on  which 
were  ragged  and  dirty  beds,  a  foreign-looking 
trunk,  a  box,  and  two  stout  stools.  The  shanty 
was  inhabited  by  an  old  Norwegian  couple,  hag- 
gard, thriftless,  and  filthy  —  poor  specimens  of 
their  people. 


THE   WRONG    CABIN.  237 

T^ie  dwarf  addressed  them  a  question,  but  they 
did  not  understand  his  tongue.  He  tried  to  in- 
form them  by  words  and  signs  that  he  had  lost 
his  way,  but  did  not  succeed.  This  was  another 
unanticipated  dilemma.  Cold,  cross,  tired,  hun- 
gry, and  baffled,  he  grew  irritated  because  they 
could  not  speak  English  —  ignorant,  unaccom- 
modating pair  !  He  attempted  conversation  once 
more,  and  failed.  How  dull  they  were  I  He 
saw  the  mote  in  their  e3^e,  just  as  you  and  I  do  in 
our  neighbors',  forgetful  that  the  same  splinter 
was  in  his  own  —  that  he  couldn't  talk  in  Nor- 
wegian, their  mother  language.  Had  he  been 
able,  the  chasm  would  have  been  bridged  by  a 
syllable. 

The  wrinkled  housewife,  however,  pointed  to 
the  bed  opposite  the  door,  to  indicate  that  he  could 
remain  till  morning.  This  instantly  disarmed 
the  dwarf's  foolish  resentment,  and  he  was  in 
pantomime  endeavoring  to  express  his  thanks  for 
her  hospitality,  w^hen  stentorian  shouting  outside 
was  heard. 

The  Hunchback  opened  the  door,  and  there  sat 
a  smiling-faced  man  on  a  restless,  wide-awake 
horse.  From  the  rider's  broad-brimmed  hat 
streams  were  falling,  but  his  manner  was  any- 
thing but  "  under  the  weather." 

"O,  yes,  I  am  vherry  vet,"  said  he,  joUily,  as 
the  dwarf  invited  him  in,  informing  him  that  he 


238  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS.       * 

would  have  to  fasten  his  horse  to  the  house,  as 
there  was  no  shed. 

The  German  did  as  suggested,  then,  entering 
the  room,  drew  off  his  boots,  emptied  the  water 
from  them,  wrung  out  his  hose,  and  hung  tliem 
on  the  bedstead  to  dry. 

"  Did  not  know  the  road,*'  he  explained  ;  ^  but 
I  ride  on,  and  I  vas  bother,  but  I  tink  to  mysell, 
my  horse  has  fine  instink,  and  I  let  him  go. 
Phrarie  beautiful  —  wide  —  flower  —  fine  grass  ; 
phrarie  hens  fly  —  so  many  birds  sing,  sing, 
sing,  feel  as  if  I  could  stay  dere.  I  get 
down  to  let  my  horse  eat  dat  fine  grass.  Veil, 
it  'muse  me  vherry  mootch,  and  I  forget  dat  it 
cloud  up,  till  I  feel  de  rain  ;  and  den  I  say  to  my 
horse,  *  Now  ve  hurry,'  and  I  ride,  ride.  But  it 
get  quite  dark,  an  it  rain  all  de  time ;  but  de 
clouds  vas  so  beautiful,  vid  de  lightning,  and  de 
thunder  roll  so  grand  ! 

"  Den  I  see  de  little  house  :  ^  Vhery  nice  people 
dere,'  I  say  to  my  horse  ;  but  it  'muse  me  vherry 
mootch ;  so  I  go  to  sleep,"  nodding  towards  the 
bed,  "  till  daylight,  ven  I  shall  have  joy  to  see  de 
sun  rise.  If  de  storm  not  come  to  make  me  vet, 
I  vas  not  see  de  lightning  !  " 

So  the  dwarf  and  the  tempest-admiring  travel- 
ler went  to  bed  together,  and,  unheeding  the  up- 
roar without,  and  the  neighing  of  the  hapless 
horse,  quickly  fell  asleep. 


THE  <:OUPLE    UNDER    THE    UMBRELLA.       239 

"Vat  ish  dat?"  inquired  the  German,  start- 
ing up. 

The  dwarf  was  already  aroused. 

Water  was  washing  down  upon  them  with  a 
consistent  copiousness  that  promised  to  convert 
their  couch  into  a  mud-hole,  for  the  roof  was 
shingled  with  sods. 

By  the  tallow  candle,  which  during  their  nap 
had  been  lighted  and  stuck  in  a  potato,  and  placed 
on  the  box,  the  dwarf  saw  the  aged  Norwegians 
sitting  side  by  side  on  the  trunk,  holding  a  huge 
umbrella  over  their  heads. 

Made  wise  by  experience,  they  had  in  season 
forsaken  their  mud-and-water  bed  for  their  novel 
shelter  —  an  expedient  to  which  they  were  so  ac- 
customed, that  their  placid  "  of  course  "  aspect  set 
the  Hunchback  to  laughing. 

But  the  German  lifted  the  door  from  its  hinges, 
and  tying  it  to  the  rafters  lengthwise  over  the  bed 
to  keep  off  the  rain,  turned  in  again. 

The  repose  of  the  travellers  was,  however,  des- 
tined to  another  interruption.  The  waters  col- 
lecting on  the  door  began  at  last  to  drip  from  its 
sides,  and  as  it  was  narrower  than  the  couch  be^ 
neath,  a  sudden  splashing  drove  its  occupants 
out,  no   more  to  return. 

Next  morning,  as  the  German  was  departing, 
the  dwarf  begged  the  privilege  of  riding  with 
him  until  they  came  to  some  cabin  at  which  to 
inquire  their  course. 


240  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"  It  'muse  mc  vherry  mootch,  but  that  rascal 
horse  jump  up  and  kick  up  behind.  No,  you 
goes  3^our  vay,  I  goes  mine ;  you  valk.  O, 
yes,  phrarie  looks  better  in  fine  weather !  "  and 
he  was  away. 

The  Hunchback  was  deserted,  but  through 
no  unfriendliness  ;  and  not  once  had  the  German, 
by  look  or  hint,  conveyed  any  allusion  to  the 
dwarf's  physical  appearance.  The  latter  could 
forgive  him  almost  anything  because  of  that. 

The  Hunchback  sat  on  the  wooden  step,  en- 
deavoring to  decide  what  to  do. 

"I  will,"  he  finally  resolved,  "go  back  as 
nearly  as  possible  the  way  I  came.  Perhaps  I 
can  find  the  village  from  which  I  started,  and  then 
I  shall  be  all  right." 

But  the  ancient  woman  had  boiled  her  kettle 
and  steeped  tea  in  the  open  air,  several  rods 
from  the  dwelling.  She  now  brought  in  the 
tea-pot,  placed  three  cups  and  saucers,  a  plate 
of  corn-bread  and  of  butter,  on  the  box,  and 
beckoned  the  dwarf  to  partake.  As  he  con- 
cluded his  meal,  taking  a  large  cake,  he  in- 
quired by  signs  if  he  might  have  it,  to  which 
an  affirmative  answer  was  returned;  and  stow- 
ing it  in  his  capacious  pocket,  he  commenced 
to  retrace  his  steps  towards  L . 


THE    CIRCLE    IN    THE    LODGE.  24I 


CHAPTER  XX. 


In  this  wayward  world  it  is  easier  to  lose  the 
right  path  than  to  recover  it.  Indeed,  each  sub- 
sequent step  is  apt  to  lead  the  wanderer  more 
widely  astray.  This  is  true  in  creed  and  deed, 
intellectually,  morally. 

The  dwarf  found  it  true,  also,  geographically. 
Theoretically,  it  was  a  simple  thing  for  him  to 
preserve  a  sufiiciently  straight  line  from  the  Nor- 
wegian log  shanty,  and  thus  return  on  his  own 
path.     And  the  end  would  be  the  grocer's  shop 

at  L .    Such  was  the  Hunchback's  logic.    But 

the  logical  conclusion  and  the  practical  result 
do  not  always  tally.  "  The  proof  of  the  pudding 
is  in  the  eating,"  and  not  in  the  formula.  Nor 
even  in  the  eating,  permit  us  to  add,  but  in  the 
digesting.  Please  write  that  on  the  tl3^-leaf  of 
your  cook-book,  madam,  and  your  children, 
saved  from  many  a  cruel  colic,  shall  "  rise  up  and 
call  you  blessed." 

All  that  weary  day  our  hero  breasted  the  bil- 
lowy blossoms  of  the  prairie  solitudes.  At  the 
16 


243  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

onset,  his  deep,  large  orbs,  clear,  penetrating, 
reflective,  were  undaunted,  for  his  faith  in  his 
course  was  unwavering.  Behind  was  the  sod- 
thatched  roof,  in  the  blue  canopy  glowed  the  sun, 
and  the  wind  steady  :  with  these  guide-posts,  what 
cause  to  fear?  The  music  of  the  birds  resounded 
in  his  heart  —  he  was  not  distrustful  of  them, — 
blithe  and  beautiful  though  they  were,  —  as  he 
was  of  his  fellows.  This  toil,  though  wearing, 
was  for  his  precious  kindred  in  the  home-cabin. 
To  them,  too,  he  was  the  courier  of  good  news, 
which  he  longed  to  tell. 

Alas,  that  our  brightest  anticipations  are  so 
often  illusions  I  Sad  was  it  for  the  limp-limbed 
dwarf  to  find  at  last  the  awful  fear  haunting  him 
that  he  was  again  lost. 

Behold  how  bravely  he  battles  with  the  horrid 
misgiving,  and  with  his  fearful  fate.  Level  with 
the  waving  grass  of  the  upper  land,  his  big  head 
moves  slowly  forward,  as  you  may  see  the  spent 
swimmer  striking  for  the  dimly-discerned  shore. 
Will  he  gain  it?  If  not,  too  well  he  compre- 
hends the  fatal  alternative.  And  the  little  Hunch- 
back, should  he  not  touch  a  familiar  trail,  or  meet 
timely  aid,  would  not  the  naked  prairie,  glorious 
as  it  was  in  its  living  verdure,  be  as  fatal  to  him 
as  ocean  depths  to  the  sinking  mariner? 

Till  evening  twilight  he  was  alone  on  that  wide 
sea   of  vegetation  —  walking,   resting,    hoping, 


THE    CIRCLE    IN   THE    LODGE.  243 

fearing,  despairing,  searching  the  remotest  hori- 
zon for  cabin  or  traveller.  In  vain.  The  west 
grew  golden.  The  stars  came  out.  The  moon 
hung  its  silver  crescent.  The  night-birds  flitted. 
The  wolves  barked.  Chilled,  faint,  and  at  last 
frightened,  the  dwarf  tottered  on,  or,  sitting  on 
the  cold,  damp  earth,  nodded  and  watched  by 
turns. 

Lost  and  benighted  on  the  uninhabited  prairie, 
what  utter  helplessness  and  desolateness  are  in 
those  words  !  The  forest  shuts  your  gaze  in  a 
narrow  circle.  You  hope  that  just  through  yon- 
der vista  is  the  old  cart-path,  or  the  well-known 
pasture.  But  the  prairie,  swept  by  your  sight 
from  sky  to  sky,  gives  ocular  evidence  that  in- 
deed you  are  lost. 

Statisticians  say  that  at  about  two  or  three 
o'clock  in  the  night  more  deaths  occur  than  at  any 
other  of  the  twenty-four  hours,  the  sun  has  so  long 
been  absent  then,  and  the  accumulated  chills  and 
vapors  are  so  powerful  in  their  action  on  the  en- 
feebled system. 

The  blood  circulated  inadequately  in  the  little 
Hunchback's  shrunken  extremities.  His  respira- 
tion was  also  weak,  as  his  weak  voice  betrayed,- 
and  the  small  vitality  he  possessed,  drawn  upon 
too  exhaustively  by  the  over-mastering  brain, 
yielded  readily  to  the  cold  night  air.  He  shiv- 
ered as  with  an  ague.    And  later,  neuralgic  pains 


244  "^"^    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

tortured  face,  arms,  and  legs.  Glad  was  he  when 
the  beams  of  day  warmed  his  aching  frame. 

The  Hunchback  journeyed  that  day  for  the 
most  part  in  irregular  circles,  having  not  the  least 
conception  of  his  whereabouts.  Late,  however, 
in  the  afternoon,  he  descried  trees  ahead.  Any 
change  was  welcome  to  him  after  the  discour- 
aging sameness  of  the  wild  wastes,  and  with  re- 
viving hope  he  sought  to  mend  his  pace. 

But  a  half  dozen  miles*  view  on  level  land, 
and  in  a  transparent  atmosphere,  agreeably  de- 
ceives the  eye.  The  distance  "  holds  out "  "  Qua- 
ker measure,"  come  to  walk  it  —  especially  if 
you  are  already  overtired.  And  evening  had  far 
advanced  when  the  wanderer  neared  the  forest. 
Then,  to  his  consternation,  a  line  of  light  burst 
lipon  his  gaze  —  he  was  in  close  proximity  to  an 
Indian  encampment. 

Here  was  an  unforeseen  difficulty.  To  retreat 
far  enough  from  the  place  to  escape  the  notice  of 
the  keen-eared,  sharp-sighted,  swift-footed  sav- 
ages, in  his  used-up  condition,  was  impossible. 
He  had  terribly  overtasked  his  powers  of  en- 
durance, and  positively  could  not  journey  farther. 
To  go  forward  was  capture,  and  he  dared  not 
contemplate  what  else.     What  could  he  do? 

Lying  in  the  grass,  long  he  pondered  the  per- 
plexing question.  He  had  subsisted,  since  leaving 
the   Norwegians,  on  the  corn-cake  his  haggish 


THE    CIRCLE    IN    THE    LODGE.  245 

hostess  gave  him  at  parting,  and  he  was  now  half 
famished.  There  were  a  few  figs  in  his  pocket, 
that  he  had  got  at  the  grocer's,  and  had  treasured 
for  his  much-loved  mother.  He  ate  those.  The 
osiers  at  the  wood's  edge  betokened  the  pres- 
ence of  water.  Crawling  there,  he  drank  great 
draughts  from  the  gurgling  brooklet,  and  softl}'' 
bathed  his  hot  and  fevered  forehead. 

Refreshed  by  the  food,  and  drink,  and  bath, 
he  could  think  more  collectedly. 

"  Let  me  see,"  he  soliloquized.  '^  I  can't  find  my 
way  home,  or  to  the  village.  That's  settled.  If 
I  attempt  it,  I  shall  die  on  the  prairies,  for  I 
should  have  nothing  to  eat,  nor  perhaps  a  drop 
of  water  to  quench  my  thirst.  So  to  go  back  is 
death.  And  the  savages  can  only  kill  me.  But 
it  is  better  that  it  be  me  than  Ferdie  or  Georgie. 
I'm  so  ugly-formed,  and  they  are  so  handsome 
and  strong ! " 

But  the  big,  sad  eyes  swam  in  tears,  and  he 
pressed  his  hand  to  his  jutting  brow  as  if  the 
thought-pain  was  there. 

"Perhaps  it  will  be  best  not  to  wait  here  and 
let  them  capture  me  ;  it  might  anger  them  worse. 
I  will  deliver  myself  into  their  hands,  and  appeal 
to  their  pity  —  if  they  have  any,"  he  added, 
shaking  his  head  negatively.  "But  I  can't  do  it 
yet.  I'll  delay  as  long  as  I  can  ;  after  all,  life  is 
sweet  even  to  me,  deformed  and  despised  as  I 
am. 


246  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

And  he  glanced  shudderingly  at  the  ruddy 
gleam,  and  the  dusky  figures  moving  to  and  fro. 

"Wonder  if  every  Indian  is  a  demon?"  he 
asked  himself,  weighing  his  chance  of  being 
murdered  at  a  blow,  or  tortured.  And  the  blood- 
congealing  accounts  he  had  heard  and  read  of 
the  barbarities  perpetrated  by  redmen  came 
trooping  to  his  mind  with  heightened  vividness. 

"The  Bible  declares,  however,  that  God  made 
of  one  blood  all  the  nations,"  he  recalled.  "  '  One 
blood ; '  that  means,  I  suppose,  that  they  are  nat- 
urally alike  in  the  main.  If  this  is  so,  Indians 
differ  in  disposition,  like  other  people."  His  face 
brightened  at  this  idea. 

But  his  countenance  fell  as  he  added, — 

"Yet  there  are  those  who  denounce  the  Bible 
as  untrue.  If  these  are  correct,  then  I  can't 
depend  on  the  Indians  resembling  the  whites. 
They  may  every  one  be  perfectly  fiendish.  But 
whether  the  Bible  is  God's  book  or  not,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  I  wish  these  savages  went  according  to 
its  rules.  Some  state  the  heathen  better  not 
be  Christianized ;  but  I  guess  if  such  folks  were 
where  I  am," — and  again  he  shrinkingly  sur- 
veyed the  flaming  lights,  —  "  they'd  be  very  wil- 
ling to  have  these  savages  converted. 

"  Suppose,  now,  they  obeyed  the  Scriptures ; 
how  would  I  fare  among  them?  There's  the 
commandment,   *  Thou  shalt  not  kill.*      I  wish 


THE    CIRCLE    IN   THE    LODGE.  245^ 

they'd  mind  that !  *  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neigh- 
bor as  thyself; '  they  wouldn't  burn  me  if  that  was 
in  their  hearts.  The  beatitude  also, '  Blessed  are 
the  merciful ; '  wouldn't  it  be  nice  if  that  governed 
them?  And,  too,  Christ's  words,  'Love  your 
enemies.'  Well,  I've  no  doubt  but  that  they  con- 
sider the  whites  their  enemies,  and  no  wonder, 
when  their  splendid  hunting-grounds  are  taken 
from  them." 

How  clearly  and  actively  the  intellect  works 
in  some  dire  crisis,  when  its  owner  crouches  at 
the  foot  of  impending  doom  !  Thus  does  reason 
assert  its  superiority  over  nature  and  brute  terror. 
The  phenomenon  is  not  unusual,  and  therefore 
the  more  instructive.  The  soul  cannot  be  trod- 
den into  inactivity  by  material  agents. 

And  there  lay  the  dwarf,  despicable  externally, 
puny,  panting,  physically  powerless ;  but  think- 
ing, reasoning,  remembering  precepts,  discussing, 
in  the  sanctuary  of  his  own  spirit,  the  mightiest 
questions,  conscious  all  the  while,  O,  so  pro- 
foundly, that  but  a  brief  moment  and  his  fate  was 
fixed  for  weal  or  woe. 

But  the  dwarf's  cogitations  were  instantly  ar- 
rested, as  a  mournful  human  howl  floated  out 
from  the  encampment  on  the  calm  evening  air. 
With  that  sound  also  the  light  was  suddenly  ex- 
tinguished. How  wild,  weird,  awful  the  wailing. 
Better    the    cry  of   the   gray    wolf   than    Ihatl 


248  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

What  did  it  mean?  He  had  read  Indian  history, 
and  it  occurred  to  him  that  a  barbarous  ceremony 
was  being  celebrated. 

The  din  would  favor  his  approach ;  so  he  cau- 
tiously crept  along,  a  thorny  thicket  relieving 
him  of  his  cap,  which  he  did  not  try  to  recover ; 
for  what  need  had  he  of  it,  when  so  soon  to  be 
tomahawked? 

The  redskins  were  assembled  in  a  large  lodge, 
from  which  a  smothered  light  issued  through 
various  crevices.  In  the  centre  was  a  smoulder- 
ing fire,  from  which  the  dying  smoke  arose  to 
find  its  way  out  at  the  cracks. 

Should  he  move  still  nearer?  He  could  hear 
his  heart  thump  against  his  contorted  ribs ;  would 
some  quick-eared  savage  hear  it  too?  He  waited 
a  moment,  that  the  throbbing  might  lessen. 

"  Aunt  Esther  said  she'd  pray  for  me,"  came  to 
memory  just  then.  "  Perhaps,"  he  thought,  "  she's 
doing  so  now.  God,  who  made  these  Indians, 
can  hear  prayer,  and  hold  these  Indians  from 
harming  me,  if  He  sees  best ;  "  and  strengthened 
by  trust  in  the  Infinite  Defender,  he  crept  close 
to  the  capacious  wigwam. 

Frankie,  since  that  memorable  first  night  on 
the  prairie,  when  the  stars  enlightened  him, 
had  been  under  a  controlling  persuasion  that  on 
him  depended  important  interests  connected  with 
the  experiment   of  the    family  in   immigrating. 


THE    CIRCLE    IN    THE    LODGE.  249 

The  loss  of  his  father,  too,  had  thrown  on  him 
a  sense  of  responsibility  that  otherwise  he  could 
not  have  experienced. 

When  he  undertook  any  difficult  duty,  like 
that,  for  instance,  concerning  the  outlaw  Sim- 
mons, he  uttered  a  presentiment  in  affirming  as 
to  his  aunt,  "  It's  put  upon  me  to  do  it."  This 
whisper  within  had  sustained  him  while  tracking 
the  trackless  prairies ;  and  now,  in  the  shadow 
of  the  savage  lodge,  he  had  not  entirely  lost  its 
inspiration,  nor  forgotten  prayer. 

The  dwarf  peeped  through  a  crevice  at  the 
strange  scene.  The  lodge  was  packed  with 
savages  of  all  ages  and  both  sexes,  sitting  cross- 
legged  in  a  variety  of  attitudes  and  postures,  each 
with  a  blanket  drawn  over  the  head,  singing  in 
unison  in  a  low  key,  the  dirge-like  notes  rising 
and  falling  in  guttural  monotony. 

"They  are  mourning  for  their  dead,"  he  con- 
cluded ;  "  now  is  my  opportunit}^  Better  discover 
myself  to  them  when  thus  engaged  than  when 
their  revengeful  feelings  are  stirred.  And  after 
mentally  preparing  a  short  speech  declarative  of 
friendliness,  and  claiming  their  protection,  he 
passed  into  the  wigwam.  His  ingress  was  not 
at  once  perceived,  such  was  the  din,  and  so  ab- 
sorbed the  performers.  But  when  it  was,  the 
issue  was  as  remarkable  as  unexpected.  With 
a  terrified  yell  the  nearest  copper-face  scrambled 


250  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

from  the  lodge,  his  companions,  men,  women, 
and  children,  tumbling  after. 

If,  as  the  dwarf  had  conjectured,  he  had  stum- 
bled upon  an  Indian  powwow,  and  by  the  dis- 
mal ceremony  the  soul  of  a  dead  brave  was  being 
wafted  across  the  dark  waters  into  the  Indian's 
Paradise,  what  the  influence  the  dwarf's  en- 
trance must  have  been  on  said  spirit,  I  can  scarce- 
ly trust  myself  to  contemplate.  With  what  an 
inglorious  flop  the  defunct  warrior  must  have 
dropped  earthward  when  the  survivors  dropped 
their  vocal  discordances  !  And  as  the  powwow 
was  not  resumed,  of  course  the  tawny  deceased 
did  not  go  to  hunt  the  brown  deer,  with  silver 
bow  and  arrows  like  darts  of  summer  lightning, 
in  the  blue  forests  of  the  happy  hunting-ground. 

But  the  dwarf  was  not  wholly  right  in  his  con- 
jecture concerning  the  nature  of  their  convoca- 
tion. They  were  not  singing  a  dead  brave  into 
the  Indian  Paradise,  but  were  invoking  the  spir- 
its of  the  departed.  The  Dakotas  are  spiritualists 
—  as  we  call  those  among  us  of  the  same  faith 
and  practice. 

One  of  their  sacred  performances  is  the  noted 
jugglery  of  rope-tying.  A  lodge  is  cleared  of 
everything  in  it,  and  one  of  their  copper-colored 
"mediums"  produces  ropes  and  thongs,  request- 
ing some  of  the  stronger  savages  to  tie  him  tight- 
ly.    This  is  usually  done  by  disinterested  parties, 


THE    CIRCLE    IN   THE    LODGE.  25 1 

who  state  that  they  have  tied  the  arms,  elbows, 
and  feet  so  tightly  as  to  break  the  skin,  and  then 
bound  the  feet  and  hands  together,  and  wound 
up  the  whole  body  in  knots  and  twists  of  the 
most  formidable  kind.  The  person  thus  secured 
is  left  in  the  empty  lodge  by  himself,  and  the 
door  secured  from  without.  No  one  is  allowed 
to  touch  or  go  near  the  lodge,  and  the  Indian, 
thus  bound,  remains  alone  singing  for  a  few  min- 
utes, when  he  cries  out,  the  door  is  opened,  and 
he  walks  forth  free. 

These  Indians  also  believe  that  some  possess 
the  power  to  call  up  and  converse  with  departed 
spirits.  They  often  make  feasts  to  the  spirits, 
and  seek  from  them  information  concerning  de- 
ceased relatives  and  acquaintances.  They  as- 
semble in  the  lodge,  smoke,  put  out  the  fire, 
wrap  their  heads  in  their  blankets,  and  sing,  till 
the  spirits  make  for  them  a  picture ;  and  many 
queer  tales  are  told  by  them  of  the  occurrences 
at  their  "  sittings." 

The  cause  of  the  abrupt  ending  of  the  savage 
"  circle  "  the  dwarf  partly  divined.  The  painted 
barbarians  were  dealing,  as  they  believed,  with 
the  dead,  and  his  coming  into  such  a  ceremony 
had  created  a  superstitious  panic  —  something  as 
if  when  you,  imaginative  reader,  were  consult- 
ing Planchette,  a  veritable  ghost  should  glide  into 
the  parlor. 


252  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"They  are  afraid  I'm  a  *  spiritual  manifesta- 
tion,'" thought  the  dwarf;  and  he  resolved  to 
favor  the  error. 

Ahogether,  their  mistake  was  not  so  singular, 
when  the  circumstances  are  considered. 

"  Ignorance  "  is  not  "  the  mother  of  devotion," 
but  delusion.  The  sleight-of-hand  tricks  of  dex- 
terous impostors  easily  impose  on  the  untaught 
and  the  credulous,  and  natural  phenomena  are 
readily  construed  to  be  the  works  of  supernatural 
agents. 

Now,  the  great  object  of  Dakota  worship  is  the 
Ta'-koo  Wakan',  the  supernatural,  the  mysteri- 
ous. This  wakan'  includes  all  mystery,  secret 
power,  divinity.  And  to  the  untutored  savage 
all  around  is  to  him  wakan'.  Without  the  illu- 
minations of  revelation  and  science,  he  under- 
stands little.  Forests,  streams,  lakes,  springs, 
prairies,  hills,  rain,  thunder,  lightning,  sickness, 
life,  death,  are  to  him,  in  all  respects,  awful  mys- 
teries. Sun,  moon,  and  stars  are  gods  and  god- 
desses. Multitudes  of  questions  arise  in  his  dark 
mind,  simple  to  us,  to  him  unanswerable ;  and 
with  his  hand  on  his  mouth,  he  exclaims  with 
2LWQ,  *'JVaka7i^f  A-t ay,  on^ -she-ma-da  r^  Mys- 
tery !     Feather,  have  mercy  ufon  me  ! 

To  his  apprehensions,  heaven  and  earth  are 
peopled  with  invisible  demons,  monsters  of  hate 
and  evil,  to  propitiate  whom  he  waves  his  pipe, 


253 

tortures  his  flesh,  ofl^ers  sacrifices,  and  by  silly 
and  horrid  rites  invokes.  Wakan'  —  mystery, 
dead,  slavish,  whimsical,  unearthly  mystery, 
wraps  him  in  fear  from  childhood  to  death. 

Probably  these  Indians  had  never  seen  a  hunch- 
back till  the  dwarf  disturbed  their  devotions. 
And  —  we  will  not  disguise  it  —  he  was  a  lustis 
naturcB^  though  I  doubt  if  the  Dakotas  under- 
stand what  that  means.  His  prodigious  chest 
and  back,  baby  legs,  thin,  dangling  arms,  large, 
long  face,  cadaverous,  and  —  by  reason  of  years 
of  gloom,  dejection,  and  ill  temper  affecting  the 
liver  —  biliously  yellow,  a  deeper  shade  being 
laid  on  by  prairie  exposures,  his  immense  head 
out  of  all  harmony  with  his  height,  surmounted  by 
the  wonderful  ridge  of  coarse  hair,  which,  when  he 
was  angered  or  deeply  excited,  seemed  to  stand 
more  stiffly  —  picture  such  an  apparition  stealing 
in  on  a  group  of  zt*//^  savages,  in  their  own  haunts, 
far  from  civilized  neighbors,  while  engaged  at 
their  midnight  orgies,  connected  with  ghostly 
and  demon  consultations.  And  not  the  most 
alert  of  the  assembled  copper-faces  had  seen  a 
trail  or  heard  a  footfall.  Moreover,  their  unearth- 
ly-shaped visitor  called  voluntarily.  He  was  not 
dragged  there  a  protesting  prisoner.  He  came 
unarmed.  His  expression  grave,  resolute,  intel- 
ligent, his  eyes  large,  spiritual,  piercing  —  look- 
ing  as  if  able  to   read   their   inmost   thoughts. 


254 


THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


How  perfectly  his  advent,  looks,  bearing,  time 
of  his  ingress,  chimed  in  with  their  superstitions 
and  the  character  of  their  ceremonies.  Ah,  he 
was  wakan'  I 

The  curiosity  of  the  copper-faces,  however, 
brought  them  back  again  —  peeping  through  the 
cracks,  crawling  cautiously  a  few  paces  into  the 
lodge,  grunting,  calHug  out,  yelling,  drawing 
nearer  and  nearer. 

In  vain  did  the  discreet  dwarf  preserve  a  ma- 
jestic silence,  and  glance  ineffable  things.  His 
power  rapidly  waned.  He  went  heavenward  as  a 
rocket,  in  their  estimation,  and  he  came  down  like 
a  stick.  Morning  found  them  wholly  undeceived 
—  he  was  flesh  and  blood,  for  they  had  pinched 
him.  So  do  ghostly  mysteries  fade  before  a  mat- 
ter-of-fact handling. 

His  make-up,  however,  amused  them  exceed- 
ingly. And  his  voice  contributed  no  little  to  the 
entertainment.  To  this  mood,  even  when  degen- 
erating to  ridicule,  the  dwarf  was,  for  a  wonder, 
submissive ;  for,  he  reasoned,  while  I  make  fun 
for  them,  they  will  not  be  likely  to  scalp  me. 

A  savage  might  be  seen  "  on  all  fours  "  squeal- 
ing like  a  pig,  to  imitate  his  voice ;  another, 
rolling  himself  into  a  heap,  would  act  the  hedge- 
hog, to  caricature  his  bristles ;  a  third  squat  like 
a  tortoise,  to  take  off  his  hunched  back. 

"  Hands  off!  "  the  dwarf  would  pipe,  when  his 
hair  was  pulled. 


255 

".Look  out,  I  tell  you,"  as  an  Indian  boy  tried 
to  trip  him. 

"  Take  care,  there,"  as  a  squaw  stuck  a  thorn 
in  his  arm. 

His  thin  tones  and  puerile  strength,  contrasted 
with  his  ominous  scowls  and  commanding  head, 
excited  roars  of  laughter. 

But  harmless  mirth  was  fast  changing  to  offen- 
sive and  dangerous  treatment.  A  tomahawk 
thrown  at  his  head  was  narrowly  dodged,  and 
the  Hunchback,  beset  by  the  clamorous  crowd, 
saw  that  his  risks  were  fearfully  increasing,  when 
from  a  fine  large  tent  there  looked  forth  a  beauti- 
ful Indian  girl ;  and  instantly  after  an  aged  chief 
came  to  him,  and  dispersing  the  savages,  led  him 
to  his  wigwam. 

The  dwarf,  overcome  by  the  unexpected  inter- 
position, would  have  fallen  at  the  feet  of  the 
chief's  daughter,  and  poured  forth  his  gratitude, 
and  begged  her  to  complete  the  kindness  by 
sending  him  to  the  white  settlements;  but  she 
appeared  now  scarcely  aware  of  his  presence, 
and  her  silence  compelled  his. 


356  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER    XXL 
AUNT  Esther's  trouble.  —  the  lamp  in  the 

WINDOW. 

Aunt  Esther  was  troubled.  Evening  was 
falling,  and  the  dwarf  had  not  returned.  A  score 
of  times  had  she  peered  anxiously  from  the  cabin 
window,  a  score  of  times  donned  sun-bonnet 
with  assumed  carelessness,  and  repaired  to  the 
gentle  eminence  beyond  the  stable,  and  shading 
her  eyes  with  her  neat  hand,  scanned  the  land- 
scape. 

She  had  hoped  he  would  not  have  so  far  to  go 
but  that  he  would  be  back  by  dark,  at  the  far- 
thest. She  blamed  herself  bitterly  for  consent- 
ing to  so  ventursome  a  project.  What  if  Sim- 
mons should  chance  to  detect  the  pursuit,  or 
the  dwarf  fall  sick,  or  be  torn  by  prowling  beasts, 
or  get  lost !  The  last  thought  sent  a  deathly  pal- 
lor to  her  cheeks. 

And  now  the  family  were  wondering  at  his 
absence.  How  would  they  regard  her  when  it 
transpired  that  she  was  secretly  a  party  to  it? 

A  clandestine  enterprise,  even  when   entirely 


AUNT    ESTHERS    TROUBLE.  257 

defensible,  indeed  praiseworthy,  if  it  lacks  suc- 
cess, is  apt  to  react  against  those  concerned  in  it. 
That  aunt  Esthers  motives  were  every  way  what 
they  should  be,  in  fitting  off  the  dwarf,  is  entirely 
apparent ;  but  would  Mrs.  Willard  appreciate 
them  ?  —  especially  if  the  dwarf  met  with  misfor- 
tune in  his  singular  and  hazardous  undertaking? 
And  a  woman  will  rarely  excuse  it  if  not  counted 
in,  in  a  secret  where  her  husband  or  children  are 
involved. 

True,  it  was  necessary — or  appeared  so  —  that 
the  confiding  Mrs.  Willard  should  remain  igno- 
rant of  the  proceedings  against  Mr.  Simmons ; 
for,  if  she  were  informed,  she  would  most  cer- 
tainly inform  him  —  and  what  then?  A  knave 
would  have  them  at  his  fingers'  ends.  Neverthe- 
less, Mrs.  Willard  could  not  see  this,  for  she 
trusted  Mr.  Simmons.  What  defence,  then, 
could  poor  aunt  Esther  offer,  should  the  lad 
miscarry  in  his   schemes? 

"  Where  can  Frankie  be  !  "  the  mother  repeated. 

The  exclamation  set  aunt  Esther  trembling. 

Supper  was  eaten,  the  dishes  washed,  —  save 
the  absent  one's  unsoiled  plate  and  cup, — the 
candle  lighted,  and  no  Frankie. 

Aunt  Esther,  unable  to  bear  the  tumult  in  her 

own  breast,  walked  about  on  the  moon-lit  grass, 

longing,  O,  so  much,  that  the  distorted,  though 

ever  dear  form  of  the  Hunchback  would  appear, 

17 


258  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

and  she  be  spared  the  pain  of  telHng  his  mother 
the  cause  of  his  tarrying. 

But  there  was  no  alternative,  and  ever  resolute 
in  duty,  she  went  in,  and  laying  her  hand  in  her 
sister's,  she  said,  — 

"  I  must  tell  you  all.  Frankie,  I  fear,  will  not 
be  here  to-night  —  he  mentioned  that  he  might 
not  when  he  went  away." 

"Went  away!"  repeated  Mrs.  Willard,  drop- 
ping the  sock  she  was  darning.  "  Went  awa}^  I 
Where?" 

She  related  all  the  circumstances. 

"You  and  Frankie  are  both  crazy  !  "  exclaimed 
the  mother,  deeply  agitated.  "That  poor,  w^eak, 
wee  thing  following  a  person  of  Mr.  Simmons's 
strength  across  the  pathless  prairies !  You've 
lost  your  wits,  Esther  !  And  keeping  it  hidden 
from  his  mother,  too  !  It's  wicked  for  a  child  not 
to  confide  in  its  mother.  He  had  no  right  to 
leave,  and  not  let  me  know  it.  You  have  en- 
couraged him  to  deceive  the  best  friend  and  the 
safest  counsellor  he  has  in  the  world ;  and  what 
will  come  of  it  God  alone  can  foresee.  How 
could  you  be  so  foolish  and  cruel,  Esther?" 

Esther  sobbed  as  the  mother  wept. 

What  could  she  say?  She  intended  it  nobly, 
heroically,  at  serious  cost  to  her  own  affections. 
She  deemed  it  a  resistless  necessity.  But  now 
that  Frankie  did  not  return,  and  while  vvJtne'^sin^ 


THE    LAMP    IN    THE    WINDOW.  259 

the  parent's  grief,  and  listening  to  her  arguments 
and  accusations,  so  sharp-edged,  touching,  and 
vehement,  she  forgot  the  real  reasons  for  her  part- 
nership in  the  affair,  and,  came  to  view  herself  as 
heartless,  weak,  and  sinful  in  the  extreme. 

Besides,  she  was  instinctively  aware  that  this 
new  sorrow  had  unsealed  anew  that  other ;  and 
that  the  bereaved  wife  and  mother  now  mourned 
a  double  loss. 

Mrs.  Willard  arose,  lighted  a  second  candle, 
and  placed  it  in  the  window ;  and  that  night  aunt 
Esther  saw  her  frequently  rise  and  trim  it,  that 
the  blaze  might  be  steady  and  strong.  And 
each  succeeding  night  the  flame  of  that  friendly 
lamp,  kept  bright  by  the  vigilant  watcher,  shone 
out  on  the  velvet  grass,  and  gleamed  far  over  the 
unbeaten  waste. 

"  He  may  come  home,  belated,"  said  she. 

When  Frankie  had  been  gone  four  days,  there 
was,  one  evening,  a  welcome  arrival  at  the  Wil- 
lard cabin.  A  clerical-looking  gentleman  rode 
up,  and  introduced  himself  as  Mr.  Parsons,  the 

missionary  at  L .     He  apologized  for  calling 

at  that  hour,  by  mentioning  that  young  Jones  had 
informed  him  about  the  family,  and  desired  that 
'their  whereabouts  might  be  ascertained  ;  but  he 
had  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  them.  Besides, 
he  said,  he  had  a  little  errand  to  do  for  Mr. 
Cowles,  on  behalf  of  a  Mr.  Swallow. 


26o  THE    YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

"It  appears,"  explained  the  missionary,  "that 
the  latter  had  a  horse  stolen  from  him,  and  our 
storekeeper,  having  reasons  to  suspect  that  the 
missing  animal  is  about  your  premises,  has  com- 
missioned me,  if  I  find  the  beast,  to  take  him 
along  with  me." 

Then  drawing  Mr.  Swallow's  advertisement 
from  his  pocket,  he  read  it  aloud. 

"Why,"  cried  Georgie,  in  amazement,  "Mr. 
Simmons's  horse  is  exactly  like  that !  " 

Ferdie  ran  to  the  stable,  and  with  marvellous 
quickness  rode  the  horse  to  the  door,  and  the  Wil- 
lards,  with  their  reverend  caller,  carefully  com- 
pared the  animal  with  the  printed  description. 
The  clergyman  was  satisfied  that  it  was  the  sto- 
len horse. 

"What  is  your  opinion,  ladies?  and  yours,  my 
lads?" 

"  It  must  be  the  one,"  gasped  astonished  Mrs. 
Willard. 

"  It  is,  and  no  mistake,"  echoed  the  brothers. 

"  Mr.  Swallow  has  authorized  Mr.  Cowles  to 
pay  the  person  recovering  the  animal,"  observed 
the  minister,  "the  amount  offered  as  reward. 
The  money  is  in  my  charge.  Where  is  the  lad 
who  brought  the  information  to  Mr.  Cowles?" 

"Do  you  mean  Frankie?"  eagerly  asked  aunt 
Esther. 

"  He  was  somewhat  deformed,  the  grocer  said, 
but  he  did'nt  learn  his  name." 


THE   LAMP    IN    THE    WINDOW.  26 1 

"It  is  —  it  is  Frankie ;  can  you  tell  me,  sir, 
where  he  is  ?  "  cried  the  mother. 

"Is  he  not  here?"  counting  the  bills  into  Mrs. 
Willard's  hand.  "  He  left  our  village  next  day, 
promising  to  bring  the  horse  on  Thursday.  And 
as  he  did  not  come,  and  Mr.  Swallow  was  in  a 
hurry  to  reclaim  the  animal,  I  hunted  you  up,  as 
you  perceive." 

"  Then  Frankie  has  perished  on  the  prairies," 
exclaimed  the  mother,  sinking  into  a  seat,  faint 
and  trembling. 

"  My  good  woman,"  gently  exhorted  the  min- 
ister, "  do  not  too  hastily  abandon  hope.  Persons 
frequently  go  astray  on  the  prairies,  and  long 
afterwards  return  alive  and  well.  Some  out-of- 
the-way  cabin  may  have  given  shelter  to  your 
boy.  I  will  rouse  the  settlers,  and  diligent 
search  shall  be  instituted. 

"  And  now,  if  you  can  stow  me  away  in  a  cor- 
ner—  no  matter  where  —  till  morning,  I  will  not 
try  to  go  home  in  the  darkness." 

Mr.  Parsons's  visit  was  timely  and  comforting. 

"I  cannot  infer,"  said  he  to  Mrs.  Willard, 
"that  your  Frankie  is  hopelessly  lost.  It  was 
an  eminently  worthy  and  courageous  deed  that 
he  left  you  to  accomplish,  and  I  have  lived  long 
enough  to  know  that  a  kind  Providence  is  inti- 
mately concerned  in  the  interests  of  such  heroic 
and  self-denying  persons.      And  his   bodily   in- 


262  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

firmity  would  serve  to  attract  to  him  the  special 
care  of  God.  How  is  it  with  yourself,  madam? 
Is  your  afflicted  son  less  dear  than  the  two  well- 
formed  boys  before  me?  Do  not  the  weakness 
and  deformity  of  the  other  elicit  from  you  a  pecu- 
liar tenderness  ?  And  is  Frankie's  heavenly  Par- 
ent less  loving  and  considerate  than  you?" 

"  Frankie  was  very  brave  and  disinterested  in 
undertaking  such  an  enterprise,"  observed  aunt 
Esther. 

"Nobly  so,"  answered  the  minister,  "and  that 
fact  gives  me  a   pleasing  assurance  of  his  ulti 
mate  success.     When  the  young  engage  in  such 
services,  they  usually  come  out  splendidly." 

"  Did  you  do  such  things  when  you  were  a 
boy?"  asked  Georgie. 

"I  did  not  live  on  the  prairie  then,"  he  smiling- 
ly replied,  "and  therefore  had  no  occasion,  like 
your  brother,  to  chase  a  scoundrel  across  one.  I 
dwelt  in  a  crowded  city,  and  had  no  call  to  such 
a  peculiar  mission." 

At  this  point,  Mrs.  Willard  handed  a  Bible 
to  her  visitor,  and  reading  a  cheerful  Psalm  of 
trust,  he  knelt  down,  and  fervently  prayed  for 
the  little  household,  not  forgetting  the  two  mys- 
teriously missing  members.  His  words  were 
like  "  apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver  "  to  the 
afflicted  household,  and  as  Mrs.  Willard  bade 
him  good  night,  her  radiant  face  reflected  her 
inward  peace. 


AN   INDIAN    LOVER.  263 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

AN    INDIAN    LOVER. THE    MAGIC    MOCCASONS. 

If  the  dwarf  wondered,  at  first,  why  the  Indian 
maiden  persuaded  her  father  to  deliver  him  from 
the  savage  rabble,  a  week's  tanking  in  the  chief's 
wigwam  did  not  solve  the  problem.  The  tawny 
miss  was  far  from  being  as  amiable  as  her  inter- 
position might  lead  him.to  expect.  She  certainly 
did  not  interfere  to  save  him  because  of  his  per- 
sonal beauty,  for  now  that  he  was  sheltered  by 
the  same  tent,  from  her  invincible  stolidity  of 
countenance  he  would  suppose  she  was  totally 
unaware  of  his  presence,  except  when  she  or- 
dered him  to  some  menial  service.  Then  her 
broken  English  was  short,  harsh,  and  domi- 
neering. 

"  White  boy,  bring  water  !  " 

"  Pale- face,  get  wood  !  " 

It  grated  on  the  Hunchback's  self-respect  to  be 
thus  addressed  by  the  feminine  Sioux,  but  "  hard 
words  break  no  bones  "  he  remembered,  while 
tomahawks  crushed  the  skull ;  and  how  speedily 
that   blood-shedding   hatchet   would   cleave    his 


264  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

cranium,  should  he  rebel,  he  could  easily  calcu- 
late. Over-sensitiveness  to  the  remarks  of  oth- 
ers, leading  to  a  morbid  irritability  of  temper, 
was  the  dwarf's  "besetting  sin."  He  was  taking 
lessons  in  self-control,  now,  with  a  Dakotah  girl 
for  his  teacher.  But  we  all  have  to  submit  to  the 
pruning-knife  sooner  or  later. 

"  She  wanted  me  for  her  slave,"  the  meditative 
prisoner  concluded ;  "  that's  wliy  she  didn't  let 
the  savages  kill  me." 

It  puzzled  him,  however,  that  while  she  ordered 
him  about  insultingly,  his  tasks  were  not  more 
burdensome. 

But  one  thing  amused  him.  One  afternoon  a 
young  brave  stalked  into  the  chief's  tent,  and 
casting  down  a  freshly-shot  deer,  went  grave- 
faced  away.  His  coming  was  so  frequent  and 
peculiar,  that  the  observant  captive  saw  that  an 
Indian  courtship  was  in  progress.  The  tawny 
maiden,  however,  deigned  not  to  notice  her  suit- 
or ;  evidently  he  was  not  in  favor  with  her ;  but 
her  unrelenting  coldness  only  added  fuel  to  his 
ardor,  and  for  hours  he  w^ould  lie  on  the  grass 
chanting,  in  minor  key,  his  love-song,  promising 
her  abundance  of  game  to  eat —  the  highest  good 
of  the  hunter's  life. 

"  Cling  fast  to  me,  and  you'll  ever  have  a  plenty, 
Cling  fast  to  me,  and  you'll  ever  have  a  plenty, 
Cling  fast  to  me." 


AN   INDIAN    LOVER.  265 

Heartless  heathen  !  how  often  she  heard  this 
ditty,  droned  over  and  over  again,  as  if  she  heard 
not ;  even  though  accompanied  by  the  cho^-ta7t- 
ka^  or  flute,  made  of  sumac,  in  the  best  style  of 
savage  art,  decorated  with  ribbon  streamers,  yel- 
low and  red  paint,  the  carved  likeness  of  a  horse, 
and  a  brass  thimble  for  a  mouth-piece. 

Some  evenings  after  the  dwarf's  discovery  of 
this  affair,  as  the  undiscouraged  red-skin  was 
pouring  forth  his  unrequited  passion,  the  Hunch- 
back was  ordered  to  the  spring.  It  struck  him 
that  the  maiden  had  a  double  purpose  in  despatch- 
ing him  among  the  bushes.  So,  concealed  by  the 
shrubbery,  he  stopped  to  look  back,  and  he  saw 
the  tawny  beauty  glide  from  out  the  door,  and 
chant  a  brief  response  to  the  pleading  lover,  who 
instantly  stood  at  her  side. 

"  Had  she  changed  her  mind,  and  was  now 
confessing  it !  "  thought  the  dwarf. 

A  moment  more  and  fear  superseded  curiosity. 
She  had  been  unusually  tyrannical  through  the 
day,  and  now  her  conversation  seemed  to  be 
concerning  him,  for  she  pointed  in  his  direc- 
tion. Was  she  devoting  him  to  the  knife  of  the 
warrior?  But  the  latter  disappeared  in  the  dark- 
ness, and  the  thankful  dwarf  returned  to  the  wig- 
wam. 

Next  day  the  dwarf  endured  much  from  the 
tongue  of  the  Indian  girl.     All  the  epithets  ex- 


266  THE   YOtHTd    PIONEERS. 

pressive  of  the  hatred  of  her  race  towards  the 
pale-faces  descended  on  his  head.  What  a  pros- 
pect, should  his  captor's  dislike  continue  to  in- 
crease !  Worn  with  sad  forebodings,  that  night 
he  fell  into  a  dreamful  slumber,  from  which  he 
was  awakened  by  a  gentle  touch.  The  chief's 
daughter,  bending  over  him,  made  signs  for  him 
to  be  silent,  and  led  him  to  the  forest.  Then 
handing  him  a  pair  of  moccasons  for  his  feet,  she 
said,  — 

"Indian  girl  send  pale-face  home.  Pale-face 
no  lose  moccasons  —  understand!  When  he  get 
to  his  people,  pale-face  look  in  moccason ;  no 
forget?"  She  spoke  low  and  impressively,  and 
before  he  could  utter  a  syllable,  glided  towards 
the  chief's  tent. 

The  round  yellow  moon  hung  above  the  trees. 
By  its  shimmering  beams  he  saw  a  dusky  form. 
It  was  the  Indian  beau,  who  silently  started  off, 
followed  by  the  astonished  dwarf.  Travelling 
slowly,  they  came  to  a  small  stream.  Pushing  a 
canoe  from  the  bushes  that  lined  the  bank,  the 
savage  motioned  him  to  lie  down  in  it,  and  then 
paddled  swiftly  away.  The  succeeding  fore- 
noon, after  threading  the  woods  on  the  opposite 
shore,  they  struck  an  Indian  trail.  Pointing  to 
it,  his  guide  said,  — 

"Go  in  that;  don't  leave;  find  white  cabin,'* 
and  left  him. 


THE    MAGIC   MOCCASONS.  267 

Freedom,  how  sweet  to  all !  Home,  however 
homely,  how  dear ! 

Did  you  ever  trace  an  Indian  trail,  worn  b}'' 
the  feet  of  the  Indian  pony?  The  narrow  path, 
clear  cut,  goes  straight  to  its  destination  —  you 
cannot  well  miss  it.  Observed  you  what  choice 
spots  it  led  to,  just  where  a  tent  should  be 
pitched,  or  a  cabin  stand?  And  thus  it  comes 
about  that  the  white  man,  pluming  himself  on  his 
superior  judgment  in  selecting  so  eligible  a  site 
for  his  wilderness  home,  finds,  after  all,  that  he 
has  chosen  second-hand ;  the  uncultivated  child 
of  nature  kindled  his  wigwam  fire  just  there. 

No  danger  that  on  this  journey  the  little 
Hunchback  would  go  astray,  for  he  trod  a  well- 
defined  patii,  conducting  him  by  the  sweetest 
springs  to  the  lands  of  the  settlers.  That  night 
he  slept  in  the  rude  shanty  of  a  pioneer,  and  by 
twelve  the  day  succeeding,  —  still  retaining  the 
trail,  —  reached  a  cultivated  field  in  the  alluvial 
river-bottom.  Climbling  the  rail-fence,  and  cross- 
ing the  enclosed  lot,  he  struck  the  trail  again. 
•  It  ran  parallel  with  a  lessening  creek  tributary 
to  a  river,  near  which  he  saw  a  log  house,  and, 
higher  up  on  the  bank,  a  neat  cottage  in  process 
of  erection.  The  cabin  door  was  open.  At  the 
opposite  extremity  of  the  room  stood  a  woman 
before  a  small  looking-glass,  arranging  her  toilet, 
her  wealth  of  glossy-black  hair  hanging  to  her 
waist. 


268  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"Madam,"  said  he,  entering,  in  his  eagerness, 
without  knocking,  "can  you  tell  me  —  " 

Not  waiting  to  hear  his  question,  she  dashed 
past  him,  screaming, — 

"  Husband  !  husband  !  the  Hunchback's  here  I  " 

At  which  an  athletic,  pleasant-faced  man 
rushed  in,  and  seeing  the  dwarf,  vociferated, — 

"Why,  where  did  you  rain  from?  Where've 
you  been?  The  whole  country  has  been  scoured 
to  find  you.  There's  a  gathering  to-day  at  the 
missionary's,  to  decide  what  else  to  do  about  it. 
I  must  carr}'  you  right  there." 

And  putting  his  head  out  of  the  door,  he 
shouted, — 

"William!  the  Hunchback's  come.  Clap  the 
horse  into  the  buggy  quick  as  you  can.  I'll  help 
you  ;  "  and  hurrying  out,  the  two  hustled  the  horse 
into  harness,  and  the  dwarf  was  whirling  towards 
the  minister's. 

"  How  far  is  it?"  inquired  the  Hunchback. 

"  Only  a  short  piece  —  you  must  have  crossed 
the  parson's  ten-acre  lot  in  getting  to  my  cabin." 

"What  are  they  doing  at  the  missionary's?" 

"  Why,  Tom  Jones  —  we  call  him  Tom,  'cause 
he  was  brought  up  about  here,  as  you  may  say  — 
is  there.  The  settlers  had  about  given  over  the 
hunt  for  you ;  but  Tom  has  brought  with  him  an 
Indian,  —  a  great  friend  to  the  Joneses,  —  and 
they  set  this  afternoon  to  state  where  each  one 


THE    MAGIC   MOCCASONS.  269 

had  searched,  and  then  the  Indian  —  he*s  a 
hound  on  a  scent — is  to  try.  But  here's  the 
house." 

And  hitching  his  horse  among  the  trees,  out  of 
sight  of  the  cabin,  saying,  with  a  humorous  twin- 
kle in  his  honest  dark  eye,  "  We  must  be  careful 
not  to  scare  the  folks  —  you  just  wait  outside  a 
minute,"  he  entered  the  dwelling  without  ceremo- 
ny, and  in  an  unnecessarily  loud  voice  said,  — 

"Tom,  there's  a  gentleman  at  the  door  that 
wants  to  speak  to  you." 

The  surprise  of  Tom  when  he  saw  who  was 
there,  and  the  joy  of  the  company,  cannot  be  de- 
scribed. They  made  the  air  resound  with  their 
lusty  cheers,  and  the  firing  of  their  guns  gave  no- 
tice to  the  settlers  around  of  the  gladsome  event, 
bringing  even  the  women  and  children  to  see  and 
hear  for  themselves.  And  the  dwarf,  overwhelmed 
with  gratulations,  learned  that  even  a  dwarf  need 
not  be  despised. 

The  Indian,  however,  retained,  amid  the  uni- 
versal rejoicing,  the  immobiHty  of  feature  char- 
acteristic of  his  race.  But  for  his  bright,  gleam- 
ing eye,  you  would  pronounce  him  immovably 
indifferent.  When  the  excitement  had  measura- 
bly died  away,  pointing  to  the  Hunchback's  feet, 
he  said  to  Tom,  in  low,  earnest  tones,  — 

"What  for  white  boy  wear  moccason?" 

Tom  saw  that  Long  Hair  detected  something 


270  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

significant  in  his  discovery,  and  he  quietly  beck- 
oned the  dwarf  and  the  Indian  into  the  mission- 
ary's attic  study. 

"  Long  Hair  thinks  it  strange  that  you  wear 
moccasons,"  remarked  Tom,  when  they  were  by 
themselves  ;  "  how  does  it  happen?  " 

"  The  Indian  girl  gave  them  to  me !  " 

"  No  ;  Indian  pappoose  no  give  pale-face  moc- 
cason,"  contradicted  Long  Hair. 

"He  means,"  interpreted  Tom,  "that  it  would 
be  unlike  an  Indian  to  do  so." 

"But  she  did,"  warmly  asserted  the  Hunch- 
back. 

"Long  Hair  want  see  moccason,"  said  the 
Indian. 

"  He  wishes  you  to  take  them  off,  that  he  may 
examine  them,"  explained  Tom. 

The  dwarf  complied,  passing  each  in  turn  to 
the  Indian. 

"What  dat?"  he  asked,  secretly  calling  Tom's 
attention  to  an  object  smoothly  secured  within  one 
of  them. 

The  inspection  sent  the  blood  with  magical 
suddenness  into  Tom's  face,  and  moved  him  so 
deeply  that  the  dwarf  was  alarmed. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  he  inquired,  anxiously. 

Tom  did  not  reply,  but  after  whispering  aside 
to  Long  Hair,  asked,  — 

"  How  long  were  you  in  the  canoe?  " 


THE    MAGIC    MOCCASONS.  27 1 

'*A11  night,"  answered  the  Hunchback. 
"  Did  you  go  up  or  down  stream  ?  " 
"Down." 

"And  kept  the  trail  all  the  way?  " 
"Yes." 

"Good,"   grunted   the  Indian.     "Long    Hair 
know  1 " 


272  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

FOREBODINGS.  —  SHINGLING    THE    CABIN. 

"  Mother,  you'll  have  to  see  to  those  boys," 
said  the  dwarf,  querulously.  "They  wouldn't 
accomplish  anything  if  I  didn't  drive  them 
to  it." 

"  He's  fine  at  bossing,"  retorted  Ferdie,  "  and 
that's  about  all  he  is  good  for.  Georgie  and  I 
work  from  morning  till  night.  We  don't  sit  round 
directing  other  folks —  do  we,  Georgie?" 

"  But  Frankie  likes  that.  Wonder  if  he  in- 
tends to  follow  it  for  a  business,"  chimed  in 
Georgie. 

"Now,  there's  the  roof  needs  shingling;  and 
the  stove  must  be  moved  into  the  house.  The 
weather  is  growing  cool,  and  winter'll  be  here 
before  we  are  half  ready  for  it,"  continued  the 
Hunchback,  unheeding  their  taunts. 

"  There  isn't  much  winter  in  this  climate," 
affirmed  Ferdie,  "  and  we  have  plenty  of  time  to 
prepare  for  it." 

"  Where'd  you  get  your  information  ?  "  sharply 
questioned  the  Hunchback. 

"All  the  settlers  say  so." 


FOREBODINGS.  273 

"  But  they  are  new  comers,  like  ourselves. 
Mother,  look  here  ;  "  and  the  dwarf  took  down  a 
school  atlas,  and  pointing  with  his  immature 
finger,  said,  "  You  see  we  are  in  the  same  lati- 
tude as  Burlington,  Vermont,  where  the  winter 
is  very  severe.'' 

"  It's  warmer  west  than  east,"  urged  Ferdie. 

"  Well,"  replied  the  Hunchback,  "  you  can  risk 
it  if  you  wish,  but  you'll  be  sorry  for  it  when 
everything  freezes  up.  Mother,  hadn't  these 
youngsters  better  get  ready  in  season?" 

"Youngsters!  Wonder  what  you  nickname 
yourself — oldster'^''  returned  Ferdie.  "One 
would  think,  to  hear  you  talk,  that  you  were 
Methuselah,  and  I  your  youngest  great-great- 
great-grandson,  and  that  Georgie  and  I  were  too 
lazy  to  pick  our  teeth  after  dinner,  while  you  was 
a  miracle  of  industry,  by  whom  the  whole  labor 
of  the  country  is  performed." 

"  Hush,  Ferdinand,"  gently  interposed  the 
mother.  "  Frankie  is  worrying  lest  we  shall  not 
be  comfortable.  He  is  not  fitted  for  hard  work. 
And  I  agree  with  him  that  it  is  wiser  to  be  early 
ready  for  winter  than  to  trust  to  having  a  mild 
season  ;  and  as  there's  only  you  two  to  depend 
upon,  it  is  the  more  necessary  to  take  time  by  the 
forelock,  as  the  old  saying  is." 

"  I'd   like  to  see  the  shingles,  before  I'm   re- 
quired to  nail  them  on,"  said  Georgie. 
18 


274  "^^^    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"We  shall  have  to  buy  them,"  answered  the 
dwarf. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  lumber-dealer's?"  asked 
Georgie,  donning  his  cap  with  a  comical  grimace, 
and  starting  for  the  door. 

"A  Mr.  Gregory,  near  L ,  has  them.     He 

makes  them  by  hand,  and,  as  it  is  a  slow  process, 
it  will  be  necessary  to  go  over  and  engage  them 
ahead.  If  you  and  Ferdie  will  put  the  horses  in 
the  wagon,  I'll  ride  there  with  you." 

In  front  of  a  wretched  loggery,  open  to  wind 
and  rain,  sat  the  settler,  a  stump  of  a  black  pipe 
in  his  mouth,  leisurely  manufacturing  shingles. 
An  oak  tree,  straight-grained  as  can  be  had,  is 
selected,  cut  down,  and  with  ''  cross-cut  "  sawed 
into  segments  shingle  length.  The  huge  blocks 
are  then  split  into  smaller  ones,  and  these  in  turn 
into  thin  parts,  with  a  heavy  steel  instrument 
cleaver-shaped.  This  last  operation  is  termed 
"  riving  out." 

The  dwarf  inquired  the  price  of  the  rough 
oaken  shingles,  and  when  he  could  have  some. 

"When  mought  you  be  wantin' on 'em?  "  in- 
quired the  man. 

"  Soon  as  possible,"  answered  the  dwarf. 

"  Isn't  your  ruff  kivered  ?  "  asked  the  manufac- 
turer. 

"  Only  boarded,"  said  the  Hunchback. 

"  No  pertick'ler  hurry,  then,  youngster,  if  it's 
boarded,  as  you  say." 


SHINGLING   THE    CABIN.  275 

"We  want  them  in  two  weeks,  without  fail," 
returned  the  dwarf. 

"  Well,  jist  ride  over.  Perhaps  I  ken  'coma- 
date  you  to  enough  to  begin  on." 

"  Why  don't  you  tighten  and  shingle  your  own 
house?"  asked  Georgie,  gazing  at  the  leaky 
structure. 

"  No  need  on't  sich  weather  as  this." 

"  But  how  do  you  manage  when  it  storms?'* 

"  Couldn't  'tend  to  it  when  it  rains,  no  way  you 
ken  fix  it." 

So  the  easy  frontiersman  did  not  repair  his 
shanty  in  pleasant  weather,  because  then  it  was 
not  necessary,  and  in  foul  he  preferred  not  to 
work  in  the  wet. 

"  What  do  you  use  in  your  cabin  —  fireplace  or 
stove?"  he  asked. 

"  Stove,"  promptly  answered  Georgie. 

"  Mebbe  you  don't  want  to  trade  for  some  fun- 
nel?    Got  some  to  spare." 

"  Old  woman  !  "  he  bawled,  entering  the  log- 
gery  and  climbing  into  the  partly-floored  attic ; 
"  here,  take  this  as  I  pass  it." 

The  wife  extended  her  arms  as  directed,  and 
a  shower  of  ashes  and  soot  saluted  her  head. 

"Wall,  if  that  wan't  a  miss-go  !  "  exclaimed  the 
husband.     "  Brush  it  off",  Roxanna  !  " 

Georgie  giggled  outright  as  she  rubbed  her 
blackened  face  with  her  wet,  greasy  apron. 


276  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

*'  My  wife  don't  look  like  a  beauty  just  now,** 
remarked  her  lord,  "but  I've  seen  the  time  when 
she'd  dance  the  cow-tillion  with  the  best  on  *em." 

"What  are  these  four  lengths  worth?"  in- 
quired the  dwarf. 

"  They  might  be  wuth  more,  and  they  might 
be  wuth  less.  Give  us  fifty  cents,  and  we'll 
consider  it  a  bargain." 

"Put  them  in  the  wagon,  Georgie,"  said  the 
Hunchback,  handing  the  man  the  money. 

"An'  now,  youngster,  seein' you're  flush,  'spose 
you  take  a  turn  round  the  cabin,  an'  see  if  there's 
anything  there  wuth  dickerin'  for." 

The  dwarf  smiled  ;  for  piled  against  the  build- 
ing were  a  number  of  bundles  of  shingles. 

"  Them's  engaged,  but  the  man  hasn't  come 
for  'em  accordin'  to  agreement.  Told  him  he'd 
have  to  be  on  hand  to  the  minute.  They  are 
yours  if  you've  got  the  cash  ;  if  not,  the  next 
person  that  has  gits  'em,  whomsomedever  he  be." 

"  I'll  take  them,"  replied  the  Hunchback  ;  and 
the  seller,  tossing  them  on  his  brawny  shoulders, 
piled  them  in  the  wagon,  and  the  lads  left. 

"But  what  is  the  matter?"  suddenly  asked 
Georgie  ;  "  you  look  dreadful  sick." 

"Not  much,"  answered  the  dwarf,  his  con- 
tracted brow,  pallid  cheeks,  and  feeble  utterance 
refuting  his  words. 

"Yes,  there  is,  tool" 


SHINGLING    THE    CABIN.  277 

"Please  stop  the  team,  and  let  me  rest  a  mo- 
ment," said  the  Hunchback ;  "  the  motion  hurts 
so." 

Georgie  checked  the  horses,  and,  alarmed, 
watched  Frankie,  who,  moaning,  curled  himself 
down  on  the  leathern  cushion. 

"  Georgie,"  said  he  at  last,  fixing  his  deep,  sad 
gaze  on  his  brother's  frightened  face,  and  articu- 
lating with  difficulty,  "  promise  me  you  won't  tell 
mother  of  this." 

"  Why,  she  ought  to  know  if  you're  sick,  so  that 
she  may  get  you  well." 

"  No,  Georgie  ;  it  would  worry  her  ;  and  you 
know  how  she  grieves  now.  It  isn't  anything 
she  can  help." 

"  But  where  do  you  feel  badly?'* 

"You  will  not  mention  it  to  her?" 

"  No,"  was  the  hesitating  answer. 

"  Nor  to  Ferdie  or  aunt  Esther?  " 

"  No." 

"  It's  all  up  and  down  my  back.  It  seems, 
sometimes,  as  if  I  should  screech  right  out,  every 
bone  in  my  spine  is  so  hot  and  raw.  And  here," 
placing  his  brother's  hand  against  the  "  false  "  or 
"  short"  ribs,  "  it  hurts  me  there  when  I  breathe. 
My  stomach,  too,  is  awful  weak." 

"  You  ought  not  to  come  over  here,  to-day," 
said  Georgie,  his  eyes  blinded  by  tears. 

"  Yes,  I  had,  Georgie.     Perhaps  I  shan't  live 


278  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

long,  and  the  house  must  be  made  comfortable 
for  mother  —  she  isn't  used  to  roughing  it.  And 
now  you  and  Ferdie  will  shingle  it  right  away  — 
won't  you?  I'd  help,  but  I  can't.  I'm  only  tr}^- 
ing  to  keep  along  till  father  comes." 

"  Father,"  cried  Georgie  ;  "  do  you  expect  to  see 
him  again?" 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  dwarf,  "  \feel  that  I  shall 
some  time  —  perhaps,  though,  it  will  be  when  I 
die,"  he  softly  added. 

"Frankie,"  cried  Georgie,  dropping  the  rein 
and  clasping  him  around  the  neck,  "  don't  talk 
so  !  I  can't  have  you  die,  you're  so  good,  and  I 
love  you  so  dearly  ! "  and  the  irripulsive  boy 
sobbed  aloud. 

"  I  am  better  now,"  said  the  dwarf;  and  a  sadly- 
satisfied  light  played  over  his  features.  "  But 
look,  the  lines  are  dragging  under  the  horses' 
heels.  Pick  them  up  very  carefully,  Georgie,  so 
as  not  to  set  the  span  running. 

"  Wait !  I'll  get  them,"  he  added,  as  he  saw  that 
Georgie's  impetuosity  was  disturbing  the  animals  ; 
and,  leaning  cautiously  over  the  whippletrees 
with  the  whipstock,  he  gently  raised  the  rein 
and  deposited  it  in  Georgie's  hand,  the  latter  say- 
ing, enthusiastically,  — 

"  You  can  do  anything,  Frankie  !  " 

"  It's  because  I  stop  to  think,"  answered  the 
dwarf. 


SHINGLING    THE    CABIN.  279 

The  day  following  being  fair,  Ferdie  and 
Georgie  commenced  work  on  the  roof. 

Georgie,  under  the  stimulus  of  his  recent  con- 
versation with  Frankie,  was  foremost  in  the  en- 
terprise, and  had  a  half  row  of  shingles  nailed 
next  to  the  ridge-pole,  when  Ferdie  shouted,  — 

"What  you  doing  there,  chick?  You've  got 
the  cart  before  the  horse.  In  shingling,  they  al- 
ways lay  the  lower  tier  first,  and  lap  the  next 
upon  it,  and  so  on  till  the  top  is  reached." 

"  That's  too  bad  !  "  ejaculated  the  disappointed 
young  house-carpenter,  scrambling  to  the  ground. 

Ferdie,  producing  a  ball  of  cord  and  a  piece 
of  chalk,  telling  Georgie  to  hold  an  end  of  the 
twine,  rubbed  the  chalk  back  and  forth  upon 
it.  Then,  tacking  a  nail  to  one  end  of  the  roof, 
near  the  edge,  he  tied  the  twine  to  the  nail,  and 
stationing  Georgie  at  the  opposite  side  with  his 
end  of  the  line,  the  same  number  of  inches  from 
the  edge,  with  his  finger  and  thumb  he  quickly 
pulled  upon  the  line  and  let  it  go  again  ;  and 
Georgie  saw  that  it  left  a  perfectly  straight  white 
mark  all  the  way  across. 

"We  must  lay  the  shingles  by  this  mark," 
explained  Ferdie,  "that  we  may  put  them  on 
evenly." 

"  How  fast  our  carpenters  get  along ! "  re- 
marked the  mother,  stepping  out  to  view  their 
progress.     "  Don't  fall,  Georgie." 


28o  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

"  No  danger  of  that,"  he  proudly  replied  ;  and 
the  hammers  of  the  lads  vied  with  each  other, 
sinking  the  nails  into  the  tough  wood. 

Meanwhile  the  dwarf  had  managed  to  cut  a 
circular  hole  in  a  square  piece  of  sheet  iron,  and 
directing  Ferdie  where  to  make  a  similar  aper- 
ture in  the  roof-board,  the  iron  collar  was  fas- 
tened over  it,  to  be  subsequently  covered  by  the 
shingles. 

"  That  will  prevent  the  stove-pipe  from  getting 
in  contact  with  the  wood,  and  setting  the  cabin 
on  fire,"  said  the  dwarf. 

A  fireboard  also  having  been  constructed,  with 
which  to  close  the  fireplace,  and  thus  prevent  the 
air  from  drawing  down  the  wide-mouthed  chim- 
ney into  the  room,  Ferdie  and  Georgie,  with 
the  assistance  of  the  women,  moved  the  Great 
Western  stove  into  the  dwelling,  and  the  funnel 
Frankie  bought  was  fitted  together,  and  run  up 
through  the  roof. 

"  Now,"  said  the  dwarf,  "  the  fire  will  also 
warm  the  attic  next  winter." 

But  the  Hunchback,  Georgie  saw,  constantly 
suffered ;  and  the  latter  often  checked  his  boy- 
ish mirth,  or  ceased  his  blithe  whistling,  to  mar- 
vel at  and  grieve  over  his  drooping,  deformed, 
uncomplaining  brother. 


THE   SILENT   BOATMEN.  28l 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


THE    SILENT    BOATMEN. 


"  Yees'll  niver  find  him  there.  My  Dennis 
isn't  drowned  at  all,  at  all.  I  wouldn't  belave 
it  if  ye  saw  him  fall  into  the  strame  wid  yer  own 
eyes.  Sure  an'  he'll  turn  up  safe  an'  sound,  an' 
put  yees  all  to  shame  for  misdoubting  me." 

And  the  young  wife  turned  away  from  the  si- 
lent boatmen,  as  they  continued  dragging  the 
river  for  the  body. 

They  were  common  Irish  laborers.  Who  would 
have  thought  that  those  coarse,  brav^ny  men 
■would  be  so  tender  of  her  feelings  as  to  make 
no  reply  to  her  assertions  of  her  husband's  safety. 
And  yet  so  certain  were  they  of  his  fate,  that, 
leaving  their  work,  they  had  searched  the  wa^ 
ters  far  and  near  for  long,  weary  hours,  and  in^ 
tended  to  continue  at  their  sad  task  till  the  corpse 
was  found. 

The  missing  young  Irishman  had  formerly 
been  a  workman  in  an  establishment  near  by. 
Driven  by  poverty  from  the  old  country,  he  had 
come  to  these  favored  shores  to  find  work.     He 


282  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

had  made  his  way  to  the  hospitable  west.  Dun- 
leith,  rising  so  beautifully  from  the  Mississippi, 
caught  his  eye. 

He  had  a  good  share  of  natural  shrewdness, 
and  he  foresaw  that  the  place  would  grow,  and 
he  decided  to  seek  work  in  the  rising  town.  Two 
years  of  regular  employment  passed,  enabling 
him  to  take  a  trip  into  Minnesota,  and  buy  a 
quarter  section  of  fertile  land  on  the  line  of  im- 
migration, fencing  it,  and  building  a  neat  cabin, 
by  the  avails  of  his  earnings  as  stage-driver  from 

Landing,  onlhe  Mississippi,  inland.     Then 

he  sent  to  "  ould  Ireland  "  for  "  the  wife  and  the 
babe."  With  what  an  anxious,  longing  heart  he 
looked  for  their  arrival !  and  when  at  last  he 
clasped  them  in  his  arms,  his  cup  of  happiness 
seemed  to  overflow.  He  was  an  intelligent, 
warm-hearted  man,  and  had  been  taught  that  it 
was  "  no  harm  to  take  jist  a  drop  now  and  thin." 
The  family  reunion  could  not,  of  course,  pass 
uncelebrated,  and  what  with  joy  and  excitement 
of  the  event,  and  a  growing  love  of  the  fiery 
liquid,  he  was  led  to  drink  more  than  his 
wont. 

"It  is  all  the  wakeness  Dennis  has,  sure," 
said  his  wife,  as  with  heavy  heart  and  many  tears 
she  begged  the  one  who  sold  him  his  drams  not 
to  let  him  have  any  more,  at  least  "  till  he's  him- 
self again."     But  how  could  the  rum-seller  con- 


THE    SILENT    BOATMEN.  283 

tinue  his  traffic  if  he  heeded  the  sorrows  of  the 
heart-broken  ? 

That  very  night  the  young  husband,  walking 
with  pale  face  and  unsteady  step  along  the  river 
brink,  staggered  in,  and  was  swept  away  by  the 
current. 

Have  you  ever  been  at  Dunleith?  Then  you 
know  how  romantically  it  stretches  along  under 
the  limestone  bluffs,  and  how  luxuriantly  in  sum- 
mer the  grape  vines  clamber  over  the  warm,  bare 
face  of  the  rocks.  Two  weeks  after  the  disap- 
pearance of  Dennis  O'Brien,  mine  host  of  

Hotel  was  conducting  Mr.  Parsons,  the  mission- 
ary, over  the  place,  plucking  the  luscious  natural 
plums  from  the  garden,  loading  him  with  rich, 
ripe  clusters  from  the  graperies,  introducing  him 
to  various  objects  of  interest,  embarrassing  his 
retiring  modesty  with  blandest  attentions,  from 
respect,  I  fear,  not  so  much  to  the  clergyman  as 
to  the  column  he  chanced  to  fill  in  a  Boston 
weekly  —  another  illustration  of  the  power  of  the 
press,  you  see. 

But  no  genuine  tavern-keeper  is  a  fool.  He 
knows  men.  He  talks  with  all  sorts  of  folks, 
and  hears  from  year's  end  to  year's  end  discus- 
sions on  every  known  topic.  And  there  is  no 
subject  from  tea  to  theology  on  which  he  may  not 
Bay  something  apt. 

"  The  Catholics  are  very  strong  here,"  said  he 


284  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

to  Mr.  Parsons,  "  and  there  is  a  church  of  theirs 
that  you  would  like  to  visit.  You  will  find  in  it 
some  quaint  old  pictures  from  the  masters." 

"Will  the  edifice  be  open  this  week-day?" 
asked  the  minister. 

"  Certainly  :  a  Catholic  church  is  rarely  closed. 
And  I  tell  you  there  are  some  things  about  the 
Catholic  system  that  you  Protestants,  if  you  were 
wise,  would  imitate.  Let  me  see,"  he  added, 
giving  him  a  careless  but  penetrating  scrutiny, 
"  you  are  a  clergyman  —  are  you  not?  " 

"  You  have  guessed  correctly,"  said  his  guest, 
smiling. 

"  So  I  supposed.  Now,  isn't  it  said  in  Scrip- 
ture, '  My  house  shall  be  called  a  house  of 
-prayer  7  '  and  he  emphasized  the  last  word  ;  "  but 
do  not  the  sects  use  the  meeting-house  more  for 
preaching  than  devotion?  Why,  I  have  often 
heard  ministers  and  church  members  style  the 
invocation,  singing,  Bible-reading,  and  prayers, 
^  \hQ prelhmnary  exercises,^  Even  public  prayers 
—  how  like  orations !  so  that  the  people  say, 
'Wasn't  that  a  fine  prayer?'  *What  an  able 
prayer  ! '  '  How  eloquently  Rev.  Dr.  Blank  ad- 
dressed the  throne  of  grace  !  ' 

"  But  the  Romanists  go  to  church  to  worshif  ; 
and  the  cathedral  doors  stand  open  all  the  week 
for  devotional  purposes  ;  while  with  us,  once  in 
Beven    days  the   church-going  bell  invites  us  to 


THE    SILENT    BOATMEN.  285 

th&  sanctuary,  where  the  attendants  are  treated 
to  great  sermons,  learned  essays,  sensational 
subjects,    elocution,  rhetoric,   eloquence. 

"Besides,"  he  continued,  "the  poor  and  the 
rich  are  on  an  equality  in  the  Papal  church.  The 
ill  clad  and  the  well  clad  sit  and  kneel  side  by 
side.  But  Protestantism  is  shutting  out  the 
masses  by  high-priced  pews  and  fashions,  mak- 
ing religious  show  mock  the  woes  of  the  lowly. 
But  I  must  leave  you  now.     Good  by." 

And  the  missionary  entered  the  Romanist 
church  alone. 

The  "  dim  religious  light,"  the  silence  that 
might  be  felt,  the  kneeling  men  and  women  scat- 
tered among  the  pews,  the  pictures  of  saints  and 
representatives  of  the  passion  of  Jesus,  the  gliding 
in  and  out  of  ecclesiastics,  and  in  a  niche  the 
"  confessional  box,"  spoke  voicelessly  of  things 
unseen  and  ghostly. 

Returning  to  the  open  air,  as  the  clergyman 
was  going  musingly  through  a  street  inhabited 
mostly  by  foreigners,  a  crowd,  gathered  before  a 
door,  led  him  to  ask  what  had  happened. 

"  Dennis  O'Brien  is  found,  sir,"  said  an  Irish 
woman,  with  eyes  red  from  weeping.  "  His 
body's  jist  brought  in  from  the  river,  sir,  swollen 
an'  soaked  so  yees  would  hardly  know  it." 

The  deceased  had  temporarily  occupied  rooms 
in  the  second  story,  and  through  the  open  win- 


286  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

dow  came  a  wild  wailing.  It  was  the  voice \i" 
his  widow,  who  "  refused  to  be  comforted."  And 
alas  !  what  a  sorrow  was  hers,  so  soon  and  sud- 
denly after  her  lonely,  stormy  ocean  voyage,  and 
the  long-wished-for  meeting  with  the  companion 
of  her  youth,  to  be  torn  from  him  in  so  awful  a 
manner ! 

The  priest's  carriage,  with  its  elegant  span  and 
equipage,  stood  by  ;  so  the  clergyman  knew  that 
he  was  there  to  administer  the  last  rites  of  his 
church. 

"But  what  comfort,"  thought  the  Protestant, 
"has  the  priest  to  offer  the  stricken  woman?  or, 
indeed,  any  of  the  bereaved  among  his  trusting 
followers,  when,  according  to  his  teachings,  the 
flames  of  purgatory  wait  to  seize  the  saintliest  of 
his  flock  at  death."  As  he  pondered  this  perver- 
sion of  the  "  glad  tidings  of  great  joy,"  and  there 
came  thronging  to  mind  the  sweet  words  of  con- 
solation for  the  afflicted  with  which  the  Bible  is 
freighted,  how  he  longed  to  break  the  darkness 
that  brooded  over  the  benighted  minds  before 
him  ! 

"And  O,"  he  exclaimed,  "the  cruel  horrors 
and  tragedies  of  the  rum-traffic  !  When  will  its 
days  be  numbered  ?  When  will  the  deluded  im- 
migrant cease  to  pay  the  rum-seller  for  robbing 
him  of  property,  reason,  and  life,  and  murdering 
his  dear  ones?  " 


THE    SILENT    BOATMENv  287 

Of  the  men  and  women  who  rode  in  the  long 
funeral  procession  at  the  burial  of  Dennis  O'Brien, 
few  were  wholly  sober.  Over  his  dishonored  re- 
mains they  drank  the  deadly  draught  that  had 
hurried  him  into  eternity.  And  the  dead  man 
did  not  rise  to  rebuke  them  I 

How  like  a  kaleidoscope  is  real  life  !  Forty- 
eight  hours  had  not  completed  their  rounds,  when 
the  gathering  suspicion  that  whiskey  was  not  the 
only  agent  directly  concerned  in  the  fate  of  the 
interesting  young  immigrant,  culminated  in  the 
arrest  of  a  man  for  his  murder.  As  the  officers 
— one  on  each  side  of  him  —  hurried  the  suspected 
criminal  along,  Mr.  Parsons  elbowed  his  way 
through  the  excited  throng  to  get  a  glimpse  of 
the  prisoner.  It  was  his  ex-workman,  Mr.  Grey 
alias  Simmons,  alias  Grimes. 

Mr.  Parsons  obtained  a  private  interview  with 
him.  He  affected  entire  ignorance  of  the  clergy- 
man, pretending,  with  craftily  affected  surprise, 
that  he  was  not  Mr.  Gr^y,  that  he  had  not  before 
seen  Mr.  Parsons,  and  that  the  latter  had  assur- 
edly mistaken  him  for  some  other  person. 

"  Grey,"  said  the  missionary,  indignantly,  ''you 
are  in  the  hands  of  justice,  charged  with  a  capital 
crime,  and  it  becomes  you  to  remember  that  if  I 
volunteer  to  testify  in  the  case,  I  can  tell  a  hard 
story." 

The  convict  was  as  cowardly  as  cunning,  and, 


288  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

with  blanched  cheeks,  he  asked,  in  abject  ter- 
ror, — 

"  Do  you  think,  Mr.  Parsons,  that  I  shall  be 
hung?" 

"  The  prospect  is  dark  for  you,"  replied  the 
missionary ;  "  for  if  you  are  tried,  and  not  con- 
victed, the  people  are  so  enraged  that  they  may 
take  the  law  into  their  own  hands.  If  you  wish 
me  to  show  you  the  least  favor,  answer  me  in  a 
straightforward  manner.  Where  is  Scroggs,  the 
scoundrel  you  met  on  the  prairie  as  you  went  from 
Mrs.  Willard'stoL ?" 

Had  a  bolt  from  a  cloudless  sky  fallen  at  his 
feet  he  could  not  have  been  more  amazed. 

"  He  doesn't  stay  in  any  particular  place ;  he 
keeps  moving  round." 

"  He's  afraid  he  shall  run  across  Mr.  Willard 
—  isn't  he?" 

"  Yes."  * 

"  And  where  is  Mr.  Willard?  " 

"  None  of  us  know,  fo»  certain.  Scroggs  says 
he  was  picked  up,  and  is  in  one  of  the  river 
towns ;  but  Merrow,  who  helped  him  do  the  job, 
don't  really  believe  it.  /  think  he's  alive  some- 
where." 

This  was  all  the  information  concerning  Mr. 
Willard  that  Mr.  Parsons  then  elicited. 

As  to  the  ill-fated  Hibernian,  it  appeared  that 
Grimes  was   with    him    at  the  gi'oggery  on   the 


THE    SILENT    BOATMEN.  289 

evening  of  the  tragedy ;  that  he  was  seen  again 
in  his  company  after  leaving  the  rum-shop ; 
that  O'Brien  had  on  his  person  considerable 
money,  with  which  to  buy  housekeeping  articles 
to  take  with  his  family  to  his  Minnesota  farm : 
and  that  when  the  body  was  recovered,  his 
pocket-book  was  gone,  while  a  five-dollar  bill 
paid  O'Brien  the  evening  of  his  death  was  in 
Grey's  possession.  It  was  identified  by  the  ini- 
tials of  a  fellow-workman  of  O'Brien's,  written  j 
with  the  date,  on  the  back  of  the  note,  the  after- 
noon of  the  fatal  day. 
19 


3gO  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


THE    CAPTIVE    MAIDEN. 


But  what  of  Alice  McElroy  ? 

Let  us  go  back  in  our  narrative  to  her  mys- 
terious disappearance,  the  resuhing  search  for 
her,  and  her  flight  from  the  wigwam  of  her 
captor. 

Her  father's  soldiers  were  within  call.  A  mo- 
ment more,  and,  environed  by  those  brave-hearted 
men,  she  would  have  been  secure  against  a  hun- 
dred Indians.  But  by  one  of  those  unaccountable 
coincidences  with  which  human  affairs  are  re^ 
plete,  just  as  she  espied  on  the  opposite  bank 
the  uniform  of  Captain  Manly,  the  hand  of  the 
pursuing  savage  was  placed  upon  her  mouth, 
and  flinging  the  struggling  girl  over  his  shoulder^ 
he  bore  her  to  his  waiting  canoe. 

What  a  terrible  revulsion  !  So  near  escape, 
and  so  frightfully  to  fail ! 

The  malignant-featured  savage  uttered  not  a 
word  till  he  carried  her  the  second  time  into  his 
wigwam;  then,  throwing  her  to  the  ground,  he 
said,  with  a  fiendish  look, — 


THE    CAPTIVE    MAIDEN.  .     29I 

**  White  squaw  fool ;  Injun  killee  her  !  " 

What  motive  impelled  her  captor  to  spare  her 
life  at  first,  and  then  to  be  so  anxious  to  hold  her 
as  to  pursue  and  bring  her  once  more  to  his  hut, 
Alice  tried  fruitlessly  to  determine.  That  it  was 
not  hope  of  reward  for  ultimately  restoring  her  to 
her  parents,  the  rage  he  exhibited  when  she  held 
out  that  bribe  fully  disproved.  It  was  plain,  how- 
ever, that  he  held  a  deadly  grudge  against  the 
general ;  for  when  Alice  mentioned  her  father's 
name,  the  face  of  the  savage  glowed  with  hate, 
and  he  fiercely  muttered,  — 

"  White  chief  kill  Injun  —  many  !  Injun  killee 
him  ! " 

It  w^as  evident,  too,  that  the  savage  held  a 
Bpite  against  her.  As  she  pondered  she  suddenly 
recalled  where  and  under  what  circumstances 
she  originally  met  her  implacable  foe.  The  re- 
capitulation of  certain  incidents,  and  a  brief 
historical  statement,  will  show  why  the  discovery 
filled  her  with  the  worst  apprehensions. 

One  day  Mrs.  McElroy  and  her  charming  Al- 
ice, on  their  way  home  from  a  visit  to  friends  in 

Northern  Iowa,  were  detained  at  the  hotel  at  L 

for  several  days,  while  a  party  of  Indians  graced 
the  village  with  their  presence.  And  Alice,  flit- 
ting hitlier  and  thither,  bird-like,  often  tripped 
across  the  street  to  brighten  Mrs.  Mather's  sitting- 
room  with  her  coming,  and  fill  the  house  with 


292  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

music  as  she  swept  the  piano  and  sang  her  favor- 
ite songs. 

Now,  it  chanced  one  morning,  entering  the 
back  door  of  that  lady's  dwelling,  she  came  sud- 
denly upon  an  Indian  helping  himself  from  the 
good  housewife's  newly-packed  "  meat  barrel." 
Startled,  she  cried  out,  — 

"  Mr.  Mather !  here's  a  horrid  savage  steal- 
ing!" 

The  announcement  brought  quite  a  group  of 
spectators  to  the  spot,  before  whom,  the  town- 
owner,  who  was  a  quick-tempered,  stern  man 
when  aroused,  lifted  the  blanket  of  the  copper- 
colored  thief,  disclosing  to  view,  hugged  under  a 
dirty  arm,  a  number  of  pieces  of  salted  pork, 
which,  with  angry  threats,  he  compelled  the  re- 
luctant red-man  to  return  to  their  places  in  the 
barrel. 

That  Indian  was  the  chief.  That  chief  was 
Alice  McElroy's  captor.  The  threatening  ex- 
pression of  that  evil  face  terrified  her  at  the  time, 
and  it  was  the  same  evil  expression,  reproduced 
with  increased  intensity,  that  now  enabled  her 
shudderingly  to  identify  the  swarthy  demon  into 
whose  power  she  had  so  strangely  fallen. 

Now  that  she  was  hopelessly  in  his  power,  her 
mind  intensely  revolved  the  awful  question  of 
her  fate.  Between  the  hut  and  stream  was  a 
solitary  oak.  Around  this  the  Indian  began  to 
heap  brushwood. 


THE    CAPTIVE    MAIDEN.  293 

''Is  he  intending  to  burn  me  to  death?"  she 
queried.  The  preparations  indicated  it.  The 
expression  of  his  hideous  face  and  glare  of  his 
diaboHcal  eye  confirmed  the  appalHng  inference. 
Unable  to  cope  with  the  white  soldiery,  his  breast 
rankling  with  traditional  animosity  and  personal 
revenge,  he  would  gloat  over  the  slow  agonies 
of  the  helpless  member  of  the  hated  race  he  had 
captured. 

With  ghastly,  white  face  the  maiden  noted  the 
ominous  preparations.  The  pile  was  completed. 
Repairing  to  a  swamp  at  hand,  he  brought  from 
thence  fibrous  grape-wood  to  bind  her  fast,  and 
was  trimming  it  with  his  scalping-knife,  when, 
as  if  he  heard  a  sound,  he  dropped  the  vines  to 
listen.  An  instant  after  there  was  a  report,  and 
a  bullet  pierced  his  chest.  The  wounded  savage 
pitched  forward,  and  commenced  his  death-song. 

"It  is  the  soldiers  I  "  cried  Alice,  joyfully. 

But  to  her  surprise  a  party  of  Indians  rushed 
from  out  the  bushes,  the  foremost  of  whom  struck 
his  tomahawk  into  the  skull  of  the  dying  sav- 
age. 

Alice  fell  to  her  knees,  as,  after  slaying  her 
captor,  the  Indian  entered  the  wigwam.  Instead 
of  the  dreaded  stroke,  he  beckoned  her  to  follow 
him,  and,  returning  to  the  Indian  village,  took 
her  i*nto  his  own  tent,  and  delivered  her  to  his 
squaw. 


294  "^^^    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Alice  knew  that  her  condition  in  that  barbarous 
home  depended  largely  on  what  sort  of  a  being 
the  woman  was,  for  the  chief  would  necessarily 
be  absent  much  of  the  time,  while  his  wife  would 
dwell  ever  in  the  tent.  The  trembling  captive 
therefore  rapidly  scrutinized  the  feminine  form 
before  her,  to  determine,  if  possible,  her  disposition 
and  character. 

But  it  is  difficult  to  read  the  Indian  countenance, 
young  or  old,  male  or  female.  This  specimen 
was  short  and  thick,  untidy  in  person  and  apparel, 
with  a  broad,  wrinkled,  haggish  face.  Whether 
she  was  as  old  as  she  looked,  Alice  could  not 
judge,  as  the  Indian  women,  from  exposure,  want, 
and  toil,  become  prematurely  decrepit.  Her  face 
wore  a  gloomy,  sullen  expression,  which  Alice 
supposed  was  evidence  of  hatred  to  her. 

From  the  squaw  Alice's  eyes  passed  to  the  sur- 
vey of  the  little  habitation  she  was  destined  to 
occup}^  how  long  and  under  what  circumstances 
she  knew  not. 

Like  the  Arabs  of  the  desert,  the  Dakotas  live 
in  tents  —  in  their  language,  teepees.  Like  the 
army-tent,  they  are  usually  of  a  conical  shape, 
covered  with  buffalo-skins,  or,  when  these  are 
scarce,  of  cotton  cloth,  or  bark,  the  latter  being 
more  pleasant  and  cool  for  the  summer. 

This  of  the  chief's  was  composed  of  not  less 
*h^n  a  dozen  bi'ffalo-ekins,  dressed  and  sewed 


THE    CAPTIVE    MAIDEN.  295 

together  by  his  squaw,  and  supported  by  a  num- 
ber of  poles  fastened  together  at  the  top,  and 
spreading  out  at  the  bottom  so  as  to  suit  the  skin- 
covering,  which  was  drawn  around  the  poles 
and  fastened  in  front  with  a  row  of  pins,  leaving 
a  hole  at  the  bottom  for  entrance,  and  one  at  the 
top  for  the  smoke  to  pass  out.  The  lower  edge 
of  the  covering  was  confined  by  pins  driven  into 
the  ground,  while  at  the  smoke-hole  was  a  flap 
arranged  so  as  to  be  accommodated  to  the  wind. 
The  "draught,"  however,  was  not  perfect,  Alice 
concluded,  as  she  wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes 
caused  by  the  smoke  in  the  tent. 

On  the  ground  inside,  dried  grass  had  been 
spread  by  the  squaw,  on  which  were  placed  skin- 
mats  and  robes  —  the  carpet  by  day  and  bed  by 
night.  In  the  centre  was  a  space  for  the  fire, 
the  fuel  for  which  the  squaw  always  provided. 

When  the  chief  brought  Alice  there,  he  said 
something  concerning  her  to  the  squaw  :  but  as 
he  used  the  Indian  tongue,  Alice  was  not  able  to 
understand  the  purport  of  it.  That  it  was  not 
ominously  harsh,  however,  she  gathered  from 
the  forbearance  of  the  Indian  woman  to  ill-treat 
her  at  the  outset,  as  their  way  is  towards  cap- 
tives. 

The  sharp  pangs  of  hunger  reminded  Alice 
that  she  had  "  lived  on  excitement "  already  too 
long,  and  by  signs  she  sought  to  signify  to  the 


296  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

squaw  that  she  was  hungry ;  and  bringing  het 
some  hominy  and  a  boiled  egg  on  a  wooden  plate, 
with  a  horn  spoon,  Alice  ate  the  food  with 
avidity. 

It  was  evident  from  what  the  chief's  wife  prof- 
fered Alice  that  provisions  were  not  any  too  abun- 
dant in  the  tecj>ee  ;  and  that  was  the  reason  the 
husband  had  left  so  soon.  He  did  not  return 
that  night,  nor  the  next ;  but  each  morning  the 
squaw,  with  haggard  looks  and  dishevelled  hair, 
wearing  a  ragged  skirt  and  leggins,  with  an  old 
piece  of  buffalo-skin  thrown  over  her  shoulders, 
walked  round  the  wigwam,  wailing,  "J/d?- 
choonk-she  !    me-choonk-she  !  " 

She  was  mourning  for  her  only  daughter,  slain 
by  the  Ojibwas.  Bitter  was  the  lament  of  the 
Indian  mother,  which,  if  rendered  in  English, 
would  be  somewhat  like  that  given  by  Mrs. 
Riggs  —  "  Mc-choonk-she!  me-choo7ik-shel  "  (^My 
daughter  I  my  daughter!^  "Alas,  alas!  My 
hope,  my  comfort  has  departed,  and  my  heart  is 
very  sad.  My  joy  is  turned  into  sorrow,  and  my 
song  into  wailing.  Shall  I  never  more  behold 
thy  Sunny  smile?  Shall  I  never  more  hear  the 
music  of  thy  voice?  The  Great  Spirit  has  en- 
tered my  tcefee  in  anger,  and  taken  thee  from 
me  —  my  first-born,  my  only  child  !  I  am  com- 
fortless, and  must  wail  out  my  grief.  The  pale- 
faces repress  their  sorrow;  but  we,  children  of 


THE    CAPTIVE   MAIDEN.  297 

nature,  must  give  vent  to  ours,  or  die.  Me- 
choonk-she  !  mc-choonk-shc  ! 

"  I  have  cast  from  me  all  comfortable  clothing, 
and  robed  myself  in  skins ;  for  no  clothing,  no 
fire,  can  v^arm  thee,  my  daughter.  Unwashed 
and  uncombed  I  will  mourn  for  thee,  whose  long 
locks  I  can  never  more  braid,  and  whose  cheeks 
I  can  never  again  tinge  with  vermilion.  I  will 
cut  off  my  dishevelled  hair,  for  my  grief  is  great. 
Me-choonk-she  !  me-choonk-she  !  " 

The  return  of  the  Indians  from  the  hunting 
expedition  was  announced,  while  they  were  yet 
far  off,  by  their  rejoicing  song.  This  showed, 
too,  that  they  had  been  successful ;  and  when  they 
appeared  they  brought  quite  a  little  supply  of 
game,  which,  however,  they  staid  at  home  to  eat 
up,  before  getting  more. 

While  the  chief  was  at  home  day  by  day,  Alice 
pleadingly  inquired  when  he  was  to  take  her  to 
the  fort,  his  vague  guttural  reply  uniformly 
being,    "  Take    pappoose    dere   bimeby  ! " 

What  motives  led  her  present  captors  to 
show  her  special  consideration  we  cannot  say. 
Certain  it  is,  however,  that  Alice  McElroy  was 
not  subjected  to  the  sufierings  that  befell  her  less 
fortunate  captive  sivSters.  Who  can  paint  her 
thankfulness  at  their  forbearance  towards  her  ! 

She  resolved  to  show  her  appreciation  of  it. 
And  as  her  grateful  looks   and  winsome  ways 


-298  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

evoked  additional  kindness  from  her  captors,  she 
trusted  that  ere  long  their  softening  natures  would 
yield,  and  they  would  grant  her  one  consuming 
desire  and  oft-uttered  prayer,  and  restore  her  to 
those  she  knew  were  mourning  her  loss,  —  a 
quenchless    grief. 

Conceive  her  dismay,  then,  when,  one  day, 
the  childless  couple  gave  her  to  understand  that 
they  had  concluded  to  adopt  her  ! 

"  O,  no ;  carry  me  to  my  true  father  and 
mother!"  she  cried,  convulsed  with  agony. 

But  the  brow  of  the  chief  grew  portentous, 
and  his  squaw  changed  into  a  fury,  and  seemed 
about  to  pounce  upon  and  tear  her  in  pieces.  In 
anguish  and  terror  she  lay  and  pondered  that 
night,  and  by  morning  had  wisely  resolved  to 
submit  to  their  whim,  —  making  a  virtue  of  ne- 
cessity,—  and  patiently  wait  the  issue.  For 
were  not  her  condition  and  prospects  enviable, 
compared  with  other  captives?  Would  it  not  be 
suicidal  folly  to  offend  those  who  held  her  pris- 
oner? Moreover,  as  a  chief's  daughter,  if  she 
used  discreetly  the  advantages  of  such  a  position, 
she  could  win  the  respect  and  confidence  of  the 
tribe,  and  when  her  plans  were  ripe  and  the 
opportunity  opened,  farewell,  Indian  captivity ; 
v^^elcome,  liberty  and  home  I 

Alice's  acquiescence  in  their  wishes  gave  great 
satisfaction  to  the  swarthy  pair ;  particularly  as, 


THE    CAPTIVE    MAIDEN.  299 

with  girl-tact,  she  became  an  Indian  of  the  Indians, 
as  Paul  was  "a  Pharisee  of  the  Pharisees,"  con- 
forming to  their  habits,  customs,  and  prejudices 
as  far  as  she  possibly  could  —  outwardly  at  least. 

The  use  of  paints,  the  Dakotas  aver,  was 
taught  them  by  their  gods,  I  think  their  gods 
must  have  been  poor  artists  —  do  you  not?  Oon- 
kiay'-he  showed  the  first  "medicine-men"  how 
to  paint  themselves  when  they  worshipped  him, 
and  what  colors  to  use.  To! -koo-shkan-shkan! 
whispers  to  his  favorites  what  colors  are  most 
acceptable  to  him.  Ha-yo'-ka  hovers  over  them 
in  dreams,  and  communicates  how  many  streaks 
to  make  upon  their  bodies,  and  what  tinge  they 
must  have.  And  no  rite  in  worship  was  con- 
sidered acceptable  if  destitute  of  the  luakan',  or 
sacred  application  of  colors. 

So  Alice,  from  those  skilled  in  plants  that  dye, 
o-btained  liquids  to  change  her  auburn  locks  to 
raven  black,  and  her  skin  to  a  tawny  hue  —  of 
course  the  gods  directed  in  the  transformation, 
and  in  the  added, hues  and  daubs. 

Her  manner  became  grave,  composed,  and 
dignified,  as  became  the  child  of  the  chief. 
Here  her  birth  and  training  helped  her.  Accus- 
tomed all  her  life  to  the  sight  of  mihtary  disci- 
pline, and  to  her  father's  commanding  carriage, 
she  easily  bore  herself  vxith  a  quiet  authority 
eminently  adapted  to  impress  the  savage  mind. 


30O  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

One  thing  I  liked  to  have  forgotten.  Alice  could 
turn  to  black  her  eyebrows  and  lids,  but  her 
eyes  were  ^'  true  blue,"  and  neither  of  the  god 
painters,  nor  the  trio  combined,  could  undo  what 
"  the  true  God  "  had  done  for  her  as  to  color  in 
those  conspicuous  parts  of  her  visage.  So,  after 
all,  I  guess  our  God  is  God,  and  "the  gods  of 
the  heathen  are  vanity." 

In  becoming  an  Indian,  Alice  was  honored 
with  a  new  name.  The  Dakotas,  however,  have 
no  family  names  ;  so  she  was  not  named  for  fier 
Indian  parents,  as  would  be  the  case  among  us. 
They  employ  proper  names  only,  and  these  all 
have  a  significance.  Generally  they  are  formed 
of  two  nouns,  or  a  noun  and  an  adjective,  as 
Good-House^  Scarlet-End^  Good-Road^  Long- 
Buffalo^  Iron-Cutter.  Sometimes  they  consist 
of  a  verb  or  participle,  as  Walking-Spirit.  And 
often  the  name  is  affixed  to  the  individual  because 
of  some  peculiarity  or  defect,  as  Crooked-Feet^ 
Burnt-Legs^  Sleepy-Eyes^  Bit- Nose  (how  would 
you  like  that?),  Big-Eyes.  It  was  perfectly 
natural,  therefore,  that  they  should  designate 
Alice,  the  chief's  daughter,  Blue-Eyes.  How- 
ever, black  eyelids  cause  the  peepers  beneath 
them  to  seem  darker  than  they  really  are,  and 
even  in  some  lights  to  appear  black  ;  so  Alice  was 
not  afflicted  with  a  serious  defect. 

Many  phases  of   life   among  the  Sioux  must 


THE    CAPTIVE   MAIDEN.  3OI 

have  been  terribly  repugnant  to  the  petted  child 
of  the  general.  But  she  had  will  and  wisdom, 
and  was  working  for  a  precious  object ;  and  one 
can  do,  and  dare,  and  endure  when  inspired  by  a 
high  purpose. 

Blue-Eyes  became  the  idol  of  the  old  chief  and 
his  squaw,  while  her  queenly  air  and  personal 
grace  and  beauty  made  her  the  admiration  of  the 
younger  warriors,  to  win  whose  notice  they 
wrestled,  and  ran,  and  exhibited  feats  of  physical 
prowess,  and  sang  their  impassional  love-songs. 

I  should  insult  the  intelligence  of  my  reader 
to  explain,  at  this  point,  that  the  charming  "child 
of  nature,"  who  broke  so  unexpectedly  on  Tom's 
wondering  vision,  the  beautiful  chief's  daughter, 
she  of  the  "  coffin  cough  "  and  grave  demeanor, 
was  Alice  McElroy,  otherwise  Blue-Eyes ;  and 
also  that  it  was  to  her  interposition  "the  dwarf 
owed  his  escape. 

Ah,  had  Tom  known  into  whose  yellow  palm 
he  poured  the  healing  globules ;  had  he  been 
conscious  of  the  concealed  tremblings  of  those 
girlish  limbs  that  walked  so  unswerving  a  gait, 
or  noted  the  latent  glances  of  the  eyes  that  gazed 
straight  ahead,  as  if  unaware  of  his  presence; 
if  to  the  ear  of  the  soul  there  had  been  conveyed 
the  unwhispered  word  of  recognition  aching  to 
burst  from  the  voiceless  lips,  —  then  might  he  have 
comprehended,   in   part,  what  self-mastery   and 


302  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

self-abnegation  it  cost  her  to  preserve  her  com- 
posure, that  he  might  not  be  put  in  jeopardy. 

O,  how  she  longed  to  send  a  message  by  him 
to  her  parents,  letting  them  know  that  she  still 
lived,  and  thouglit  of  them  I  Must  she  keep  her 
secret,  and  remain  a  captive?  Could  she  see  him 
depart,  not  once  dreaming  who  she  was?  Ah, 
how  hateful  then  the  Indian  ornaments  celebrated 
in  the  songs  of  admiring  braves  !  Ah,  how  odious 
her  disguise,  if  she  might  cast  it  off  sufficiently 
to  show  that  she  was  not  Blue-Eyes,  the  chief's 
daughter,  but  only  Alice  McElroy  ! 

But  keen  eyes  and  ears  were  in  ambush.  She 
must  act  her  part  for  Tom's  sake,  and  to  secure 
a  future  chance.  How  magnificently  she  tri- 
umphed over  the  trying  ordeal,  the  chief's 
personal  application  to  Tom  for  "  more  medicine 
for  pappoose,"  and  Tom's  unharmed  dismissal, 
demonstrated. 

From  that  test-hour  the  confidence  of  the  In- 
dians in  AHce's  fidelity  to  them  was  almost  un- 
limited. 

She  readily  divined,  however,  that  Tom  was 
on  his  way  to  visit  his  mother  at  the  fort.  From 
that  interview  she  was  on  the  alert  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  send  a  message  to  him.  The  coveted 
occasion  came  when  the  little  Hunchback  strayed 
into  the  chief's  encampment,  after  the  Indians 
had  returned  there. 


A    BIRD-SONG    IN    THE    NIGHT.  303 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

A    BIRD-SONG    IN    THE    NIGHT. 

Tom  and  Charley  lay  in  the  shadow  of  the 
wood,  intently  listening.  Save  the  liquid  lullaby 
of  the  gently -flowing  stream,  and  the  whisper 
of  the  trees  stirred  by  breath  of  zephyr,  silence 
reigned. 

Wary  watchers  they.  Only  those  trained  where 
the  stealthy  step  and  keen  senses  of  tlie  death- 
dealing  savage  must  be  watched  by  a  foot  as 
noiseless,  and  a  vigilance  as  acute,  could  pre- 
serve such  motionless  quietude  and  alert  wake- 
fulness. 

Past  their  covert  slunk  a  large,  black  wolf, 
unsuspicious  of  their  proximity.  Over  their 
heads  perched  a  monstrous  owl,  his  staring  eyes 
stretched  to  see  the  first  creature  to  his  taste  that 
moved ;  then  on  downy  wing  he  swooped  to 
their  very  side  upon  a  plump  field-mouse,  and 
supped  at  his  leisure  on  raw  rat  steak.  An  ant- 
lered  deer  proudly  guided  his  mate  to  the  stream 
to  slake  her  thirst.     Tempting    game ;    but  th» 


304  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

bullet  sleeps  in  the  pioneer  boys'  rifles.  The 
deer  drink  deeply,  and  browse  the  pendent 
boughs,   and  wander  away  unharmed. 

What  a  scene  for  the  stars  to  look  down  upon 
through  the  rifted  clouds  and  glimmering  tree- 
tops —  that  solitary  pair  of  youthful  faces,  patient, 
resolute,  unwearied,  keeping  brave  vigil  far  from 
the  haunts  of  civilization,  the  gloom  of  the  forest 
at  night  enshrouding  them,  and.  rolling  off  im- 
measurably from  the  woods  the  uninhabited 
prairie. 

Hush  !  A  faint  sound  from  out  the  far-off  dark- 
ness. Was  it  the  dip  of  an  oar,  or  the  feathered 
plunge  of  a  night-bird?  None,  save  an  ear 
educated  to  it,  sharpened  and  rendered  preter- 
naturally  quick,  would  have  caught  the  muffled 
indistinctness.  The  eyes  of  the  venturesome 
young  scouts  shine,  and  they  scarcely  breathe. 
A  lengthy  interval  of  unbroken  quiet  succeeds. 
Were  they  deceived  ? 

Suddenly,  up-stream,  a  robin  carols.  How  hard 
for  birds  that  can  sing  not  to  sing  !  Perchance 
tuneful  red-breast,  in  dreaming  of  his  true-hearted 
mate,  uttered  his  love-lay  unawares.  None  the 
less  sincere,  however,  for  that. 

What  now  !  From  the  bushes  where  Tom  and 
Charley  wait  is  wafted  a  responsive  \\  arble.  Did 
*i.'-d->vife  w^ander  in  the  swift-descending  twilight 


A   BIRD-SONG    IN    THE    NIGHT.  305 

from  her  husband's  side,  and  the  darkness  com- 
pel her  to  alight  on  the  first  object  her  tiny  foot 
might  press,  and  wait  there  in  loneliness  for  the 
dawn  of  a  new  day?  And  did  she  fold  her  wing 
on  Tom*s  lips?  for  the  answering  notes  seemed 
to  rise  therefrom. 

If,  however,  you  will  notice,  as  well  as  you  can 
for  the  darkness,  the  countenances  of  the  frontier 
brothers,  you  will  perceive  an  aroused  expec- 
tancy that  was  not  apparent  before.  Did  the  bird- 
note  telegraph  important  news  that  the  young 
men  now  peer  with  strained  vision  through  the 
gloom?  That's  a  secret,  confided  only  to  the 
prudent  few.  "Won't  you  tell?"  Then  let  me 
whisper  that  no  bird  was  concerned  in  the  song 
you  admired  so,  and  the  tuneful  reply.  It  was 
the  signal  agreed  upon  between  Long  Hair,  the 
friendly  Indian,  and  Tom. 

And  observe.  Down  the  narrow  river,  through 
the  black  vista  of  overarching  trees,  shoots  a 
canoe.  It  pauses  opposite  the  brothers'  place  of 
concealment.  A  savage,  with  cat-like  agility, 
springs  ashore,  and  swiftly  drags'the  light  craft 
into  a  sheltered  baylet,  hidden  by  tangled  thick- 
ets. The  bird-call  is  sounded  cautiously  again. 
Tom  and  Charley  hurry  noiselessly  to  the  In- 
dian's side.     It  is  Long  Hair. 

"  Quick  ;  got  pappoose  dere  !  "  said  the  latter, 
pointing  to  the  canoe,  from  her  prone  conditiott 
20 


306  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

in  the  bottom  of  which  an  Indian  girl  arose,  and, 
aided  by  Long  Hair,  stepped  upon  the  bank.  It 
was  Blue-Eyes. 

"O,  AHce  ! "  whispered  Tom,  trembling  with 
excitement,  as  he  extended  his  hand. 

"  O,  Tom  !  "  she  answered  ;  and,  overcome 
with  the  tumult  of  her  feelings,  in  a  very  un- 
Indianish  way,  flung  her  arms  around  the  squat- 
ter son's  neck,  sobbing  wildly  for  joy,  while  Tom, 
giving  the  reins  to  his  long-pent-up  emotions, 
in  an  exceedingly  unmasculine  manner,  fell  to 
laughing  and  cryinij  together :  and  Charley,  for- 
gettmg  military  pruprict/  ctnti  /car  o/  puisum^ 
savages,  turned  an  old-fashioned  summersauU^ 
crashing  the  bushes  with  his  descending  heeh. 

"Pappoose  fool;  Tom  fool;  Charley  foQi,"' 
rapidly  whispered  angry  Long  Hair.  "Wht-t 
for  make  noise?     Want  Injun  come?  " 

"Nature  will  have  its  way."  It  did,  in  this 
instance,  with  white  and  copper-face.  Fortunate 
for  the  escaping  captive  that  Indian  nature  was 
there  as  an  ally.  Clapping  his  ear  to  the  ground, 
Long  Hair  sltd,  — 

"  Injun  come  bimeby  —  quick  !  " 

The  trio  understood  by  this  that  the  pursuing 
Indians  were  close  upon  them.  You  should  have 
seen  the  change  this  startling  intelligence  caused 
in  Tom  and  Charley.  Active,  adroit,  sagacious, 
their  faces  like  marble,  yet  expressive  of  fearless 


A   BIRD-SONG    IN    THE    NIGHT.  307 

determination  —  from  weak  weeping  to  heroes  in 
deportment.  Thus  do  great  emergencies  bring 
out  and  invest  with  the  sceptre  the  nobler  ele- 
ments of  the  soul. 

Alice  understood  her  three  friends  not  to  be 
panic-stricken.  She  had  intrusted  her  safety  to 
their  hands,  and  felt  assured  that  they  would  not 
undertake  the  dangerous  and  difficult  enterprise 
of  her  rescue  from  captivity  and  restoration  to 
her  home  without  adequate  preparation  ;  and  she 
hopefully  accompanied  them,  as  they  glided  rap- 
idly through  the  forest  towards  the  open  land. 

Alice's  heart  beat  with  a  joyous,  grateful  throb, 
as  Tom,  taking  her  hand,  guided  her  to  a  shel- 
tered spot,  where  stood  her  own  dear  pony. 
Hidden  also  near  by  were  spirited  steeds  for 
himself,  Charley,  and  Long  Hair.  Dashing  out 
upon  the  prairie,  the  whiz  of  an  Indian's  arrow 
gave  notice  that  their  foes  were  pressing  them 
hard. 

"Let  them  come  on,"  said  Tom;  "we  are 
safely  out  of  their  ugly  claws." 

"  Safe ! "  ejaculated  Alice,  as  a  spent  bullet 
smote  Charley's  horse. 

"  Look  !  Injun  over  dere,"  said  Long  Hair, 
pointing  ahead,  slightly  to  their  right. 

He  was  correct;  dusky  form's  were  hurrying 
to  intercept  them. 

"  No  matter,"  coolly  replied  Tom  ;  "  we'll  turn 


308  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

a  little  to  the  left.  They'll  soon  go  back  faster 
than  they  came." 

The  assertion  was  not  mere  bravado ;  for  sud- 
denly there  was  a  bright  flash  in  the  prairie 
grass,  followed  by  a  simultaneous  discharge  of 
fire-arms,  and,  with  an  astonished  yell,  the  sav- 
ages recoiled  to  the  woods.  At  the  same  instant, 
on  the  extreme  left,  there  was  similar  firing  on 
the  advancing  Indians  at  that  point,  with  like 
result. 

"Good,"  grunted  Long  Hair.  "  White  soldier 
fire  from  de  ground." 

But  their  defenders  remained  flat  on  their 
faces,  ^nd  the  prairie  seemed  as  destitute  of 
military  force  as  before. 

"The  Indians  won't  molest  us  any  more,"  said 
Tom,  exultingly.  "They'll  think  the  prairie  ii 
sown  with  soldiers.  Captain  Manly  is  a  splendid 
tactician.  He  can  fight  the  Indians  better  with 
a  score  of  picked  men  than  some  officers  could 
with  a  regiment  at  command." 

And  the  three  rode  courageously  on. 


BLACK  NANCY  SHOUTS.  3O9 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

BLACK   NANCY    SHOUTS.  —  A    DREAM. THE   TWO 

SAVAGES. 

The  lad  that  goes  from  the  old  homestead  i«» 
seek  his  fortune,  but  of  whom  nothing  is  ev«vi 
heard  afterwards  ;  the  dear  ones  who  set  sail  in  <  'x^ 
ship  that  makes  no  port,  and  concerning  wh(  hi 
fate  the  ocean  is  dumb;  the  child,  missed  frt.'U 
your  side  in  the  dense  city  or  flowery  field,  who 
answers  no  more  to  your  call,  —  these  "  lost  "  ones 
are  mourned  for  with  an  unceasing  and  peculiar 
•sorrow.  The  mystery  of  their  destiny  fills  the 
mind  with  a  yearning  disquiet.  Years  drag  by, 
and  w^e  think  we  have  seasoned  ourselves  into 
the  immovable  conviction  that  they  have  entered, 
"  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest ;  "  but  we  start  at  a  familiar 
voice  or  step,  and  find  ourselves,  with  aching 
hearts,   waiting  for  the  wanderers. 

Over  long-lost  Alice  her  parents  ceaselessly 
wept.  They  conversed  less  of  their  strange  be- 
reavement, but  their  grief  gnawed  as  remorse- 
lessly.    General  McElroy's  tall,  erect  form  be- 


3IO  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

came  bowed,  and  his  locks  white.  His  elegant 
wife  wasted  as  if  in  a  slow  consumption,  and  her 
brilliant  smile  was  the  wan  semblance  of  its 
former  radiance. 

The  fond  parents  had  left  no  measures  untried 
to  solve  the  painful  problem  of  her  disappearance  ; 
but  no  news  of  the  absent  daughter  was  borne  to 
them  from  prairie,  grove,  or  river,  cabin  of  the 
pioneer,  or  wigwam  of  the  red-man.  Grasses 
waved,  birds  carolled,  trees  waved  their  brawny 
branches,  waters  ran,  but  spoke  not  a  syllable 
concerning  the  fair  form  for  whom  they  witnessed 
such  pains-taking  and  heart-breaking  search. 

Nor  did  her  family  grieve  alone.  Before  the 
sad  event  gayety  and  mirth  often  held  carnival  in 
the  many-roomed  dwellings  of  the  frontier  fort, 
for  the  long,  four-storied,  brick  buildings,  enclos- 
ing the  spacious  square,  contained  not  a  few 
choice  spirits  —  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  culture  ; 
and  the  fortress  itself,  what  was  it;  but  an  armed, 
compact  town?  An  advanced  outpost,  remote 
from  the  large  settlements,  it  was  dependent  on 
its  own  resources  for  improvement  and  diversion, 
and  each  person  contributed  something  to  the 
social  stock. 

But  the  loss  of  the  commander's  child  caused 
a  marked  change  in  the  little  community.  The 
sympathy  for  him  and  his  wife  was  sincere  and 
profound.     Soldiers  spoke  low  and  stepped  softly 


BLACK  NANCY  SHOUTS.  3II 

as  in  the  chamber  of  death ;  for  the  beautiful 
girl  was  a  universal  favorite. 

Prosperity  affects  children  very  differently.  It 
is  the  ruin  of  some,  a  blessing  to  others.  Alice 
McElroy  was  "  born  with  a  silver  spoon  in  her 
mouth,"  as  the  quaint  old  phrase  has  it.  Wealth 
and  position  commanded  attention  and  petting, 
and  the  winsome  child  of  the  general  would  in- 
evitably have  been  spoiled  had  she  naturally 
lacked  the  ballast  of  sound  common  sense.  Just 
as  sweet,  unaflected,  and  unselfish  was  she,  de- 
spite fine^clothes,  personal  charms,  and  unstinted 
praise. 

Ah,  that  shut  piano,  which  used  to  gush  with 
music  beneath  her  fairy  fingers,  the  varied  tones 
of  which  all  the  fort  rejoiced  to  hear,  —  sacred  in- 
strument, closed  now,  for  no  hand  since  hers  had 
vanished  might  woo  the  ivory  keys,  —  how  its 
eloquent  voicelessness  depressed  the  fort  people  ! 
And  the  dumb  woe  of  the  dispirited  pony,  listening 
in  vain  for  the  loving  call  and  the  tripping  step, 
increased  the  prevailing  gloom. 

A  Scripture  fragrant  with  wisdom  and  love 
exhorts  us  to  console  the  sorrowing,  "  with  the 
comfort  wherewith  we  ourselves  are  comforted." 
Mrs.  Jones,  Tom  and  Charley's  mother,  was  first 
brought  to  the  fort  by  the  soldiers  who  had 
rescued  her  from  the  scenes  of  tragic  horror  in 
which  her  husband  was  mortally  shot  and  her 


313  THE   YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

daughter  tomahawked.  The  -fate  also  at  that 
juncture  of  Charley  and  little  Bub  was  involved 
in  doubt,  as  no  trace  of  them  was  found. 

Mrs.  McElroy  welcomed  the  weeping  woman 
with  large-hearted  and  sympathizing  hospitality, 
and  did  all  in  her  power  to  calm  her  grief  and  cheer 
her  spirit ;  with  tender  consideration  she  caused 
the  widow  to  become  governess  in  the  McElroy 
household,  that  congenial  employment  might  at 
once  divert  her  thoughts  and  give  her  the  inde- 
pendence of  self-support.  Little  did  the  general's 
wife  then  imagine  that  the  hour  was  coming  when, 
instead  of  ministering  comfort,  she  would  lean  on 
Mrs.  Jones  for  sympathy,  as  that  lady  had  on  her. 
So  do  good  deeds  return  to  bless  the  doer. 

A  union  of  the  best  qualities  of  head  anc^ 
heart  fitted  Mrs.  McElroy  to  counsel  and  plan  for 
Mrs.  Jones  in  the  time  of  the  latter's  troubles. 
She  could  suggest  a  silver  lining  to  the  stormiest 
cloud,  and  argue  aptly  and  cogently  against  de- 
spair. Nor  did  she  omit  to  point  the  sufferer  to 
faith  in  an  all-wise  and  gracious  Providence. 
Nevertheless,  this,  to  a  large  extent,  was  theory 
to  Mrs.  McElroy.  Her  Hfe  had  been  scarred  by 
no  notable  misfortune —  on  the  contrary,  it  had 
been  happy  beyond  that  of  most. 

But  the  unexplained  disappearance  of  Alice 
smote  down  the  stately  woman  as  by  a  murder- 
ous blow.     Wild  with    anguish,  day   and   night 


BLACK  NANCY  SHOUTS.  313 

she  moaned  and  wept.  Such  a  sunbeam  as 
Alice  had  been,  and  so  swift  the  quenching  of  that 
light!  The  mother's  vigorous  mind,  stored  with 
philosophic  maxims  and  Bible  texts,  was  in  a 
whirl  of  fear,  anxiety,  sorrow,  foreboding,  and 
not  one  of  the  well-turned  truisms  she  was  wont 
with  soothing  smile  to  offer  Mrs.  Jones  availed 
for  her  own  soul. 

Her  extremity  was  Mrs.  Jones's  opportunity. 
What  could  she  have  done  in  that  hour,  had  it 
not  been  for  one  who  had  tasted  the  same  cup  of 
bitterness?  When  the  cry  was  wrung  from  her, 
"Never  was  sorrow  like  my  sorrow,"  the  gentle 
governess  reminded  her  of  the  terrible  days 
when  brave,  romantic  Charley  was,  none  knew 
where ;  yet  both  he  and  Bub  were  restored  to  her 
embrace. 

"  Best  of  comforters  !  truest  of  friends  !  What 
should  I  do  without  you?"  often  would  Mrs. 
McElroy  exclaim. 

One  morning,  after  a  sleepless  night,  Mrs. 
McElroy,  adjusting  a  shawl  to  her  shoulders, 
feebly  descended  to  the  door,  to  breathe  the 
prairie  air  a  moment  before  eating,  she  said, 
then  took  her  seat  at  the  breakfast  table.  The 
ashen  lips,  sunken  cheeks,  languid  eye,  fickle 
apj>etite,  bespoke  the  chronic  invalid.  Yet  it 
was  not  bodily  disease  that  had  wrought  the  sad 
change,  but  a  mother's  mourning  love. 


314  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

Black  Nancy,  with  hair  in  short,  crisp  pig-tails, 
adorned  with  fluttering  bits  of  bright  ribbon, 
bustled  about,  recommending  "  missus  jest  to 
taste  of  dish  sher  berr}^  nice  fricassee  prairie 
chicken,  an'  dat  ar  light  biscuit  and  new  butter." 
But  neither  odorous  coffee  from  the  silver  urn, 
though  seasoned  with  rich,  thick  cream,  skimmed 
"  preticklerlally  for  missus,"  nor  the  neatly  laid 
cloth  artistically  covered  with  tempting  dishes, 
could  provoke  the  sorrowing  woman  to  eat. 

"  It's  mos'  <^(^5couragin' ;  de  little  bird  ud  die 
eatin'  no  more'n  missus  do,"  ejaculated  the  sable 
waitress,  as  Mrs.  McElroy  arose.  "I'se  a  great 
min'  neber  to  set  dish  sher  agin  ; "  and  she  clat- 
tered off  the  plates  indignantly.  '^Anybo^fyl" 
tink  de  food  wasn't  fit  for  de  pigs  —  dat  dey 
would.  An  missus  growin'  dat  poor,  —  specs 
she'll  blow  away  some  ob  dese  fine  mornings, 
when  dere's  no  wind.  An'  massa,  too,  follerin'  on 
jest  de  same  way.  So  poor  now  de  crows  wouldn't 
pick  dere  bones,  ef  'twas  ter  keep  dere  selves 
from  breakin'  de  commandment,  and  stealin'  de 
farmer's  corn  !  But,  laws,  Afi'ss  Jones,"  she  ex- 
claimed, suddenly  confronting  that  lady,  "  what 
am  de  matter  wid  you?  Eber  sense  Tom  was 
here  de  las'  time,  you  fly  about,  fly  about,  jest 
as  if  de  wings  were  spioulin'  on  yer  shoulders, 
an'  you  was  spectin'  to  be  a  sure  enough  angel, 
an'  fly  out  ob  de  winder  up  to  de  sky.  You  do 
conduc  berry  singlar  I  " 


BLACK  NANCY  SHOUTS.  315 

"Nancy,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  striving  to  look 
very  grave,  at  which  the  quick-eyed  image  cut 
in  ebon}^  rolled  up  her  eyes  most  comicalljs  "  it 
is  quite  desirable  that  you  do  not  call  attention  to 
my  manner  in  the  hearing  of  Mrs.  McElroy.  I 
do  not  wish  her  to  notice  it." 

"  Can't  help  it,  no  ways,  Miss  Jones ;  you  do 
behave  so  quar,"  shrewdly  replied  the  African. 
**  Ef,  now,  I  understood  jes'  what  am  de  matter  wid 
you,  'twould  be  difFrunt  —  dat's  de  fac,  truf." 

"Won't  you  let  a  soul  know,  if  I  tell  you  the 
secret?  " 

"You  wont  ketch  dis  chile  in  no  sich  im- 
prudency  —  won't  tell  myself —  dat's  so  !  " 

Mrs.  Jones  began  to  whisper  in  her  ear,  her 
dark-skinned  listener's  fat,  shining  face  glowing 
with  the  consciousness  of  the  honor  conferred  on 
her  by  being  made  the  confidant  of  the  governess. 
Better  than  a  show  was  it  to  watch  the  varying 
expression  of  the  colored  woman's  mobile  coun- 
tenance. The  large,  round  eyes  grew  larger 
and  rounder,  the  generous  mouth  slowly  opened, 
revealing  by  degrees  double  rows  of  comely  white 
teeth,  breaking  meanwhile  into  a  widening  grin, 
that  threatened  to  involve  her  ears  ;  and  the  fleshy 
arms  and  hands  were  gradually  upraised  in  in- 
effable astonishment. 

"  O,  bless  de  Lord  !  Praise  de  good  Lord  1 
Jes'  what  I'se  bin  prayin'  for,"  she  bellowed,  '*  at* 


3l6  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

long  ago  He  gub  me  de  witness  dat  de  honey 
sweet  —  " 

"Stop,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Jones;  "you  prom- 
ised not  to  tell,  and  you  are  proclaiming  it  to  the 
whole  fort." 

"  Can't  help  it,  Miss  Jones  ;  "  and  sitting  flat  on 
the  floor,  and  swaying  back  and  forth,  her  ample 
body  exercised  in  ever}^  bone  and  muscle  with 
her  happy  excitement,  she  shouted,  "  I  shall 
praise  de  Lord,  if  all  de  worl'  say  I  mus'n't. 
Bless  de  Lord  !     Praise  de  good  Lord  !  " 

"Nancy,"  asked  Mrs.  McElroy,  drawn  to  the 
dining-room  by  the  uproar,  "  what  does  this 
mean?" 

"Dish  chile  can't  possibly  splain,  missus;  but 
she  mus'  praise  de  Lord,  or  she'll  bust ;  dat's  de 
Bible  truf." 

"What  has  come  over  you?  Get  up,  and  be 
yourself  again,"  commanded  her  mistress. 

"Now,"  said  Mrs.  McElroy,  as  the  servant 
arose,  "state  to  me  calmly  what  agitated  you 
so?" 

"Dat  are  ain't  possible,  missus.  But  I'se 
terrible  happy.  Traid  if  I  keep  still  de  berry 
stones  ob  de  court  ud  cry  out.  Praise  de  blessed 
Jesus !  he's  jest  bin  de  bcstcrest  friend  dat  eber 
any  poor  sinner  eber  had  —  been  monstrous  good 
to  all  in  dish  sher  fort ! " 

"  I  wish  I  could  realize  it,"  said  Mrs.  McElroy. 


BLACK  NANCY  SHOUTS.         317 

"  Bress  de  Lord,  you'se  gwine  to  right  away, 
missus.     You'll  shout  bigger'n  I  did,  when  — " 

"  Nancy  !  "  sternly  interposed  the  governess. 

"  Laws,"  ejaculated  the  forgetful  waitress, 
clapping  her  great  paw  over  her  widely  distended 
lips,  "  I  jest  gwine  ter  break  my  promise  —  but  1 
didn't,  thank  de  good  Lord  for  dat !  " 

"  An  unusual  scene,"  observed  Mrs.  McElroy, 
as  they  ascended  to  that  lady's  apartment.  "  You 
can,  however,  interpret  it  to  me,  if  I  mistake 
not ; "  and  she  laid  her  thin  hand  in  that  of  the 
governess. 

"  It  appears,"  replied  the  latter,  "  that  Nancy 
has  made  your  great  loss  a  subject  of  prayer,  — 
you  know  what  a  simple,  child-like  faith  many 
of  the  blacks  have,  —  and  she  is  confident  that 
the  evidence  is  given  her  that  her  petitions  are 
heard;  in  other  words,  that  Alice  is  alive,  and 
will  be  restored  to  you." 

The  mother  sighed,  then  asked,  with  a  pen- 
etrating look, — 

"  What  do  you  think  in  regard  to  this  matter?  " 

"  Stranger  things  have  happened,"  she  an- 
swered. 

"  Mrs.  Jones,"  cried  the  general's  wife,  gazing 
into  the  governess's  truth-telling  face,  "has  any- 
thing been  heard  of  Alice?" 

"There  has  been  a  new  search  instituted  by  my 
Tom,  aided  by  his  Indian  friend,  Long  Hair,  and 


3l8  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

Tom  is  sanguine  that  all  will  end  well.  But  of 
course  the  young  are  hopeful.  Do  you  think  the 
joy  will  be  too  much  for  your  debilitated  frame, 
should  his  efforts  result  as  we  all  so  much 
desire?  " 

"  No.  I  can  bear  anything  better  than  this 
awful  suspense.  But  I  have  not  mentioned  that 
I  also  have  a  presentiment  that  Alice  is  not  dead, 
and  that  I  shall  once  more  clasp  her  in  my  arms. 
Lately,  when  I  am  most  desponding,  a  secret 
voice  seems  to  whisper,  *  She's  coming ;  she's 
coming !  '  And  therefore,  if  she  should  return, 
she  would  not  find  me  wholly  off*  my  guard. 
But  what  is  this?"  she  inquired,  as,  hearing  the 
clattering  of  hoofs,  she  went  to  the  window. 
"  Two  mounted  Indians  !     How  queer  !  " 

"  Why,  so  there  are,"  Mrs.  Jones  responded. 
"One  of  them  looks  like  a  squaw.  It  is  the 
Dakota  chief's  daughter,  Blue-Eyes,  so  famed  for 
her  beauty,  intelligence,  and  fine  character,  I'll 
wager.  Tom  told  me  about  her ;  he  saw  her  on 
one  of  his  adventurous  expeditions.  Yes,  it  must 
be  she,  for  there's  Tom  just  alighting,  and  my 
wide-awake  Charley.  Suppose  we  return  to  the 
dining-room,  and  make  the  acquaintance  of  the 
tawny  miss." 

"  A  remarkable  beauty,  surely,"  murmured 
Mrs.  McElroy,  raising  the  window^  and  gazing 
spell-bound    after    the    Indian    girl.     "  What   a 


THE    DREAM. 


319 


graceful,  queenly  carriage  —  a  perfect  figure  I 
But  I  feel  faint,"  she  suddenly  added,  and  stagger- 
ing to  a  sofa,  reclined  a  while,  Mrs.  Jones  anx- 
iously fanning  her.  "  What  do  you  suppose," 
said  she,  recovering  her  equanimity,  "affected 
me  so?  You  don't  know  how  my  heart  jumped. 
What  is  the  matter  with  me  ?  My  load  of  sorrow 
is  gone.  I  begin  to  be  happy  again.  How 
singular  !  One  night  I  had  such  a  sweet  dream  ! 
I  thought  Alice  came.  I  didn't  recognize  the 
dear  child  at  once  ;  but  it  proved  to  be  really  she  ; 
and  O,  how  happy  I  was  !  But  why  should  that 
same  peace  fill  my  heart  now,  when,  alas  I  she  is 
still  aw  ay  ?  Strange  —  isn't  it  ?  If  I  did  not  know 
to  the  contrary,  I  should  believe  that  the  dear 
girl  had  now  come.  But  perhaps  it  is  because 
I  am  not  strong,  and  my  mind  is  overtaxed." 

"  Perhaps  it  will  interest  you,"  said  Mrs.  Jones, 
wiping  the  tears  from  her  own  cheeks,  "  to  go 
down  and  see  the  chief's  daughter." 

Tom's  eager,  yet  respectful  greeting  of  Mrs. 
McElroy,  as  she  entered  the  room,  was  cordially 
reciprocated. 

"This  is  Long  Hair,"  said  he,  pointing  to  the 
Indian  sitting  nearest. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  see  you  once  more,"  she  re- 
marked, shaking  his  hand.  "  You  were  a  good 
friend  to  the  Joneses,  and  I  am  grateful  for  it. 
And  who  is  this?"  she  inquired,  advancing  to- 
wards the  beautiful  Indian  girl. 


320  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

"  Blue-Eyes,"  answered  Tom,  with  choked 
utterance. 

"I  have  heard  of  you,"  pohtely  said  Mrs. 
McEh'oy,  addressing  the  dusky  maiden ;  and  she 
was  about  to  take  her  hand  also,  when,  sinking 
into  a  chair,  she  said,  "  O,  how  strangely  I  feel ! 
Just  as  in  that  blissful  dream.  I  am  not  deceived 
—  Alice  is  coming  I  Nancy,  open  the  door,  she 
must  be  in  the  court.  I  know  she's  near.  Throw 
the  door  wide  open.  Nancy,  do  you  hear? 
Alice,  my  own  darling  Alice,  is  coming,  I  say  ! " 

"  Mother,  mother !  dear,  dear  mother !  don't 
you  know  me  !  "  cried  the  Indian  girl,  starting  up, 
and  casting  herself  on  Mrs.  McElroy's  bosom. 
"I  was  captured  by  the  Indians,  and  adopted  by 
a  chief!" 

"  Happy,  happy !  just  as  I  dreamed,"  mur- 
mured the  mother,  folding  her  closely. 

It  is  said  that  evil  tidings  travel  fast,  and  that 
"  a  lie  will  go  ten  leagues  while  truth  is  putting 
on  its  boots."  It  is  delightful  to  mention  one 
instance  in  favor  of  the  reverse. 

The  news  that  the  fairy  of  the  fort,  gentle, 
lovely  Alice  McElroy,  was  in  the  fortress,  went 
like  a  flash  of  light  through  the  buildings. 
"  Beautiful  upon  "  the  prairie  ^'  the  feet  of  them" 
that  hasted  to  spread  the  joyful  intelligence. 
Officers  and  privates  shook  hands  over  the  event, 
and  war-begrimed  comrades  embraced  each  other 
with  brimming  eyes. 


THE    TWO   SAVAGES.  32I 

That  evening,  when  the  grand  old  star- 
spangled  banner,  waving  from  the  lofty  flag-staff, 
was,  as  usual,  lowered,  jubilee  was  kept.  How 
the  big  cannon  roared,  and  the  musketry  rattled, 
and  the  band  played  I  Flash  followed  flash, 
report  succeeded  report,  one  tune  rose  after  an- 
other, till  the  air  was  ablaze,  and  the  prairie 
vocaL.  Meanwhile  the  ladies,  —  did  anybody 
ever  "  get  ahead  of  their  time"  ?  —  while  the  lords 
of  creation  supposed  them  to  be  dutifully  ap- 
plauding their  performances,  were  getting  up  a 
little  celebration  on  their  own  hook.  To  each 
window-pane  of  the  entire  fort  they  affixed  rows 
of  candles,  and  at  a  signal  the  tapers  were 
lighted,  and  the  spacious  buildings  illuminated  as 
if  by  enchantment. 

The  result  was  striking.  The  drummers 
stopped  drumming,  the  musicians  forgot  to  blow, 
the  gunners  neglected  to  load ;  then  splitting 
their  throats  in  their  enthusiasm,  cheer  on  cheer 
greeted  the  brilliant  spectacle. 

I  do  not  know  what  the  prairie  wolves  thought 
of  the  military  thunder  and  lightning,  the  radi- 
ance and  deafening  voices  ;  they  did  not  tarry  to 
express  their  feelings  at  any  great  length,  but 
with  their  tails  between  their  legs  they  scampered 
off,  snarling  and  howling.  As  for  prowling 
savages,  they  slunk  away  with  the  wolves. 
21 


322  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  THE  MOCCASONS. THE  MAN 

WITH  THE  LANTERN. 

It  is  related  of  an  artist,  who,  secluded  from 
observation,  was  working  on  a  masterpiece,  which 
it  was  for  his  interest  not  then  to  make  public, 
that  his  bosom  friend  begged  permission  to  invite 
'*only  two"  of  his  acquaintances  to  view  it. 

The  painter  smilingly  answered,  — 

"  You  do  not  reckon  right !  " 

"  How  so  ?  "  inquired  the  other. 

Taking  his  pencil,  the  artist  replied,  — 

^^Tou  have  seen  the  painting;  that's  one ;^^  and 
he  indicated  it  by  the  appropriate  numeral.    "  Mr. 

E would  also  be  one,  and  Mr.  G.  one ;  that 

makes,"  said  he,  significantly  marking  a  nu- 
meral, III  — one  hundred  and  eleven." 

The  successful  escape  of  Alice  McElroy  was 
due  largely  to  the  fact  that  she  had  sufficient  dis- 
cretion to  confide  the  enterprise  to  so  few  persons, 
and  those  able  to  keep  their  ov.'n  counsel.  Tom 
and  Long  Hair  were  ever_y  way  fitted  to  prosecute 
the  undertaking,  for  they  were  well  acquainted 


THE    MYSTERY    OF    THE    MOCCASONS.        323 

with  the  Indian  character  and  habits,  -and  could 
devise  and  execute  her  rescue  with  Httle  risk  of 
alarming  her  captors  and  imperilling  her  safety. 
Had  a  squad  of  soldiers  been  despatched  to  de- 
liver her,  the  Indians,  discovering  their  approach, 
would  have  spirited  her  away,  or,  failing  in  that, 
sacrificed  her  life. 

What  a  cute  thought,  placing  those  moccasons 
on  the  dwarfs  feet !  For  if  the  Hunchback  had 
worn  awa}'-  his  shoes,  some  straggling  savage 
might  have  struck  his  trail,  and  the  temptation  to 
take  his  scalp  be  too  strong  to  resist.  But  wear- 
ing moccasons,  a  score  of  bloodthirsty  Indians, 
seeing  his  footmarks,  would  suppose  them  those 
of  a  native  Sioux.  But  there  were  in  them,  in 
Indian  symbol,  for  Long  Hair,  her  name  and 
that  of  the  old  chief,  and  where  their  encampment 
was;  also,  in  English,  a  message  to  Tom,  sug- 
gesting that  Long  Hair  be  employed  to  come 
alone  first,  and  arrange  the  time  of  her  flight. 

Words  cannot  convey  the  anxiety  with  which 
she  waited  the  issue  of  her  experiment.  When 
she  slept,  her  heart  was  awake  to  catch  the 
coveted  signal.  And  one  kind  night  the  full 
round  harvest  moon  "took  the  black  veil,"  and 
the  prairies  went  into  mourning  for  her  absence. 
At  midnight,  when  the  swarthy  occupants  of  the 
wigwams  snored  in  their  blankets,  the  faintly 
audible  carol  of  the  robin  threw  up  her  eyelids 


324  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

with  spasmodic  suddenness.  She  understood 
well  what  bird  of  hope  sung  that  song,  —  so  well 
that  her  strength  for  the  moment  utterly  forsook 
her,  and,  unable  to  rise,  she  lay  pressing  her  lit- 
tle hand  over  her  heart  to  suppress  its  loud  palpi- 
tations. 

Long  Hair,  however,  was  too  sagacious  imme- 
diately to  repeat  the  signal ;  and  stealing  softly 
cut  into  the  thicket,  from  whence  came  the  call, 
in  the  heavy  dew-damp  and  chilly  night  air,  was 
the  patient  red-man.  In  terse  language  he  ap- 
pointed the  time  when  he  would  convey  her  to 
the  fort,  and  when  the  hour  rolled  round  he  was 
there. 

The  lives  of  some  persons  have  little  incident 
to  vary  their  hackneyed  monotony ;  others  are 
crowded  with  great  and  solemn  events.  Tom 
Jones's  was  stirring  and  eventful.  Even  his  vaca- 
tion, which  he  anticipated  as  a  peaceful  visit  to 
his  frontier  friends,  had  been  filled  wdth  adven- 
ture. 

How  remarkable  the  occurrences  that  had 
drawn  Alice  McElroy  and  himself  into  such 
close  connection  !  What  did  these  experiences 
foreshadow  ?  He  dared  not  trust  himself  to  pon- 
der this  question.  His  honor  would  not  permit 
him  to  presume  on  the  strength  of  the  service 
he  had  rendered  her.  On  the  contrary,  he  was 
sensitive  lest  she  might  fancy  he  expected  to  be 


THE   MYSTERY    OF   THE    MOCCASONS.        325 

specially  noticed  on  this  ground.  "  For,"  he  rea- 
soned, "  I  am  only  assisting  to  pay  the  debt  of 
gratitude  due  her  parents  for  their  kindness  to 
my  mother.  And  who  am  I  —  Tom  Jones,  the 
squatter's  son  —  that  she  should  think  of  me?" 

But,  when  the  day  arrived  for  him  to  set  his 
face  eastward,  and,  at  parting,  Alice  leaned  from 
a  window,  just  as  he  once  dreamed,  and  with 
evident  agitation  said,  "You  won't  forget  me  while 
you're  gone  —  will  you,  Tom?"  his  heart  was  so 
moved  he  could  not  answer. 

On  his  way  to  the  river,  Tom  called  at  the 
cabin  of  the  Willards.  The  very  logs  seemed 
to  brighten,  so  glad  were  the  inmates  to  see 
him.  And  the  dwarfs  eyes  swam  as  the  loved 
visitor  handed  him  an  appreciative  letter  from 
Mrs.  McElroy,  complimenting  him  on  his  heroic 
deeds  for  his  family,  and  thanking  him  for  the 
part  he  bore  in  the  recovery  of  her  daughter. 
The  fifty-dollar  bank-bill,  enclosed,  was  to  buy, 
she  said,  if  he  would  oblige  her  by  parting  with 
them,  the  moccasons  Blue-Eyes  furnished  him. 

The  proud-spirited  Hunchback  had  no  oppor- 
tunity to  decline  the  money,  for,  as  he  com- 
menced speaking,  there  was  a  thundering  knock 
at  the  door,  which,  as  he  was  sitting  nearest, 
he  hastened  to  open.  A  short,  stout  man,  with 
a  cross  face,  which  misrepresented  its  owner, 
stood  before  him,  the  butt  of  his  formidable  whip- 
stock  uplifted  for  a  second  rap. 


326  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

**  Mj  name  is  Edmands,"  said  he.  "  I've  come 
to  see  about  that  hay  I  bought  of  Simmons  !  " 

"  'Twasn't  his  to  sell,"  piped  the  dwarf,  brisding 
with  combativeness. 

"  Wal,  wal,"  replied  the  setder,  surveying  him 
with  a  comical  squint,  "  you're  a  buster  —  ain't  ye, 
now  ?  Going  to  swallow  me  ?  I  suppose  you've 
no  objection  to  showing  me  where  the  stacks 
are.'* 

"Mr.  Edmands,"  said  Tom,  stardng  towards 
him. 

"Ah,  Tom,  how  are  you?  I  drove  round  here 
on  business ;  didn't  expect  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  you." 

"Nor  I  you,"  responded  Tom.  "But  about 
that  hay  — " 

"  That's  none  of  jv^e^r  concern,"  he  brusquely 
iuterrupted,  slyly  winking  at  him.  "  I  bargained 
for  hay  that's  on  this  claim,  and  if  this  youngster, 
or  oldster,  whichever  he  is,  ain't  afraid  to  do  the 
square  and  honest  thing,  he'll  show  it  to  me." 

"  I  will  do  that,"  answered  the  Hunchback ; 
"  but  you  can't  cart  off  a  wisp  on  that  Simmons's 
account." 

"  Can't,  eh?  Wal,  that  can  be  tested,  I  reckon." 

Ferdie  and  Georgie,  with  lengthened  visages, 
accompanied  the  two. 

"  You'll  want  to  reserve  enough  to  winter  your 
span,"  remarked  the  farmer. 


THE   MYSTERY   OF   THE    MOCCASONS.        32/ 

"We  shall  reserve  it  all,"  retorted  the  dwarf. 

"Don't  get  riled,  my  little  friend,"  the  man  oh- 
served.  "  I  expect  to  control  the  major  part  of 
that  dried  grass,  anyhow.  You  can  spare  ten 
tons,  and  leave  plenty  for  your  horses.  I  con- 
tracted with  Simmons  for  it  at  two  dollars  and 
fifty  cents.  There's  been  more  grass  cut  this  sea- 
son than  anybody  expected.  It  won't  be  over  five 
dollars  a  ton  till  next  mowing.  I'll  give  you  that, 
my  lad,  if  you  are  willing  to  spare  the  hay,  and 
I'll  pay  you  this  minute,  to  clinch  the  bargain ;  '* 
and  he  tendered  the  dwarf  fifty  dollars. 

"  It's  too  much,"  replied  the  Hunchback,  his 
tones  husky  with  emotion. 

"  That's  7ny  bread  and  butter,"  said  the  settler  ; 
and  as  if  offended  he  tossed  the  bills  upon  the 
grass,  and  began  to  walk  away. 

"  Don't  be  angry,  Mr.  Edmands,"  cried  Geor- 
gie,  running  after  him  ;  "  we  all  thank  you." 

"  How  wonderfully  the  hand  of  Providence  has 
marked  our  history  since  we  left  the  steamboat  I  " 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Willard,  as  the  boys  reentered 
the  dwelling,  and  related  Mr.  Edmands's  kind- 
ness. 

**  I  trust  you  have  had  no  reason  to  regret  set- 
tling on  a  prairie  claim.  I  would  not  advise 
every  family  as  I  did  yours,  but  was  impressed 
that  it  would  be  best  for  you." 

**  There  is  one  lesson  we  ought  to  learn  from 


328  THE   YOUNG   PIONEERS. 

this  affair  about  that  Simmons,"  remarked  aunt 
Either,  "  and  that  is,  that  opposite  qualities  bal- 
ance one  another.  Mrs.  Wiilard  and  the  boys 
were  too  confiding.  Frankie  and  I  are  apt  to  be 
suspicious.  Yet,  if  there  had  been  no  over-confi- 
dence, the  haying,  breaking,  and  fencing  would 
not  have  been  done,  nor  the  stolen  horse  left  here. 
But  if,  also,  there  was  no  distrust,  Simmons 
might  not  have  been  foiled,  and  no  profit  have 
accrued  to  us.  Shall  we  not  appreciate  each 
other  better  after  this  ?  " 

"  Learn,  too,"  added  Tom,  "  that  the  sickly  and 
feeble  may  be  eminently  useful  and  honored  of 
Providence,  as  was  our  Frankie." 

"  O,"  sighed  Mrs.  Wiilard,  "  if  I  knew  how  we 
should  pass  through  the  winter !  and  if  the  other 
lost  one  could  be  restored  to  us." 

"It  is  good  to  "hope  and  quietly  wait  for  the 
salvation  of  God,"  tenderly  quoted  Tom.  "Trust 
your  husband  in  God's  care,  madam.  And,  as 
to  lesser  troubles,  do  not  be  unbelieving ;  when 
3^ou  need  help,  it  will  come  — just  as  it  has.  How 
often  I  have  seen  this  illustrated  here  at  the 
west ! 

"A  clergyman  was  once  called  from  home  on 
a  mission  of  mercy.  The  case  was  urgent.  A 
dangerous  marsh  must  be  crossed,  which  it  was 
impossible  to  reach  before  nightfall,  and  he  could 
Bcarcely  expect  to  pass  over  in  the  darkness  un- 


THE    MAN   WITH    THE    LANTERN.  329 

harmed.  But  he  recognized  the  call  as  impera- 
tive ;  *  love  constrained  *  him  ;  and,  casting  all  care 
on  the  heavenly  Friend,  he  pushed  on  through 
the  gloom.  Urging  his  horse  along  the  dan- 
gerous pathway,  he  at  length  reached  a  frightful 
point  in  his  perilous  journey.  The  darkness  was 
profound.  A  single  misstep  might  be  fatal :  and 
for  an  instant  he  paused. 

"At  that  moment  a  light  appeared.  Nearer 
and  nearer  it  came.  What  could  it  betoken  in 
that  lonely,  uninhabited  spot?  Directly  a  stran- 
ger came  in  sight,  bearing  a  lantern,  and  cour-i 
teously  guided  the  benighted  minister  to  a  place 
of  safety. 

" '  And  thus,'  said  the  man  of  God, '  have  I  ever 
found  it  through  life.  When  all  has  been  envel- 
oped in  gloom,  and  in  no  way  could  I  extricate 
myself,  "  a  man  with  a  lantern  "  has  come  to  my 
aid.     God  has  said,  "  Let  there  be  light."  ' 

"  A  missionary,  when  pressed  by  poverty  and 
want,  was  in  the  habit  of  specifying  in  prayer  his 
most  important  needs.  One  day  potatoes,  meal, 
and  salt  were  lacking.  Nothing  could  be  hoped 
from  the  *  subscription.*  A  great  financial  crash 
had  fallen  on  the  whole  country,  and  distress  was 
upon  all  the  settlers.  What  could  he  do?  Prayer 
was  his  only  refuge. 

"  Next  morning  a  rough,  swearing  man,  living 


330  THE    YOUNG    PIONEERS. 

miles  away,  came  driving  his  team  through  the 
bushes.  Presently  stopping,  he  tossed  some 
bags  into  the  grass,  saying,  in  a  frank,  off-hand 
way, — 

"  *  There's  a  trifle  for  your  babies  ;  that's  a  bag 
of  potatoes,  the  other  is  meal,  and  at  the  end  of 
the  sack  you'll  find  a  few  pounds  of  salt ;  perhaps 
you'll  smile  when  I  tell  you  that  I  had  a  queer 
notion  that  I  must  put  that  salt  in  ;  but  if  you  don't 
need  it,  it  won't  do  any  harm.' 

"  Who  would  have  thought  this  messenger 
would  have  come  *  with  the  lantern '  ?  How  hap- 
pened it  that  he,  and  not  one  of  the  members  of 
the  missionary's  church,  should  be  the  almoner  of 
God's  goodness  to  His  servant?  Answers  to 
prayer  often  reach  us  through  unexpected  instru- 
mentalities. And  God  may  be  nearer  those  ac- 
counted not  his  people  than  we  think. 

"Sickness  on  the  frontier!  Ah,  the  terror  of 
that  thought  —  an  entire  family  prostrated,  and 
none  to  help  !  Thus  it  was  one  fearful  autumn 
with  the  Fosters.  First  the  parents,  then  the 
children ;  the  former,  rallying,  bent  over  the 
wasted  forms  of  their  little  ones,  in  great  weak- 
ness watching  them  through  long  nights  and 
Buitry  days,  until,  exhausted,  they  could  watch 
no  more,  and  sinking  upon  the  floor,  besought 
the  Lord  to  send  them  a  friend. 


THE    MAN   WITH   THE    LANTERN.  33 1 

**  Morning  broke,  and  with  it  came  an  answer 
to  their  petitions,  in  the  person  of  one  least 
expected  or  desired,  and  who,  under  happier 
circumstances,  would  have  been  greeted  coldly. 
Little  did  they  know  till  then  that  under  that  re- 
pulsive manner  throbbed  a  tender  heart. 

"  *  I  could  not  sleep  last  night,*  said  the  comer, 
*  I  was  so  troubled  about  you ;  and  now,  if  you 
can  put  up  with  my  rough  ways,  I  should  like  to 
help  you.' 

"  Such  words  from  her,  while  those  who  ought 
to  have  been  there,  afraid  to  trust  themselves 
before  the  dreaded  contagion,  keep  safely  at  a 
distance  ! 

"  And  what  a  help  that  strong-armed  woman 
was,  as  she  tenderly  arranged  the  sick  ones  upon 
freshly-made  beds,  and  laid  their  aching  heads 
upon  smooth,  sweet  pillows. 

"  Ah,  she  was  a  messenger  with  a  lantern,  and 
verily  the  place  grew  beautifully  *  light  about 
her.' " 

Dear  reader,  let  us  not  only  pray  that  in  our 
hours  of  darkness  a  messenger  with  a  lantern 
may  come  to  us,  but  that  we,  in  our  turn,  may 
bear  to  the  benighted  and  tempest-tossed  its 
cheering  rays.     Farewell,  till  we  meet  again. 


OLIVER   OPTIC'S  BOOKS. 


THE  LAKE  SHORE  SERIES. 

Six  Tolaines.    Illustrated.    In  neat  box.    Per  vol.,  $1.99. 


1.  THROUGH  BY  DAYLIGHT; 

Or,  The  Yoang  Engineer  of  the  Lake  Shore 
Railroad. 

i.  LIGHTNING  EXPRESS; 

Or,  The  RiTal  Academies. 

8.  ON  TIME; 

Or,  The  Young  Captain  of  the  Ucana  Steamet 

4.  SWITCH  OFF; 

Or,  The  War  of  the  Stadmts. 

6.  BRAKE-UP; 

Or,  The  Young  Peacemakers. 

fi-  BEAR  AND  FORBEAR; 

Or,  The  Yonng  Skipper  of  Lake  Ucayga. 


••Oliver  Optic"  is  one  of  the  most  fascinating  writers  for 
youth,  and  witbal  one  of  the  best  to  be  found  in  this  or  any 
past  age.  Troops  of  young  people  hang  over  his  vivid  pages, 
and  not  one  of  them  ever  learned  t>o  be  mean,  ignoble,  cow- 
ardly, selfish,  or  to  yield  to  any  vice  from  anything  they  evei 
read  from  his  pen.  —  Providence  Press. 


OLIVER   OPTIC'S  BOOKS. 

«b  -  ■■         -     -'■  ■-        -  I      .  .    .-.    -  ^^^^^ 

THE  aREAT  WESTERN 

SERIES. 

Six  Volumes.    Illustrated.    Per  vol.,  $1.5a 

1.  GOING  WEST; 

Or,  The  Perils  of  a  Poor  Boy. 

2.  OUT  WEST; 

Or,  Roughing  it  ou  the  Great  Lakes. 

5.  LAKE  BREEZES; 

Or,  The  Craise  of  the  Sylvania. 

4.  GOING  SOUTH ; 

Or,  Yachting  oa  the  Atlantic  Coa»l. 

6.  DOWN  SOUTH; 

Or,  Yacht  Adventures  in  Florida. 

6-  UP  THE  RIVER ; 

Or,  Yachting  on  the  Mississippi. 

This  is  the  latest  series  of  books  issued  by  this  popnlai 
writer,  and  deals  with  Life  on  the  Great  Lakes,  for  which  a 
careful  study  was  made  by  the  author  in  a  summer  tour  of  the 
immense  water  sources  of  America.  The  story,  which  carries 
the  same  hero  through  the  six  books  of  the  series,  is  always 
entertaining,  novel  scenes  and  varied  incidents  giving  a  con* 
»tant?y  cnanging,  yet  alwaj^s  attractive  aspect  to  the  narra- 
ti\€.     "Oliver  Optic"  has  written  nothing  better. 


OLIVER    OPTICS  BOOKS. 


ARMY  AND   NAVY  STOEIES. 

Six  Volumes.    Illustrated.    Per  vol.,  $1.50. 


1.  THE  SOLDIER  BOY ; 

Or,  Tom  Somers  an  the  Armf. 

5.  THE  SAILOR  BOY; 

Or,  Jack  Somers  in  the  Navy. 

8.  THE  YOUNG  LIEUTENANT; 

Or,  Adventures  of  an  Army  Officer. 

4.  THE  YANKEE  MIDDY; 

Or,  Adventures  of  a  Navv  Ofl&*^er. 

6.  FIGHTING  JOE; 

Or,  The  Fortunes  of  a  Staff  Offioer, 

6.  BRAVE  OLD  SALT; 

Or,  Life  on  the  Quarter-Deck. 


Tliis  series  of  six  volumes  recounts  the  adventures  of  two 
brothers,  Tom  and  Jack  Somers,  one  in  the  arm}*,  the  other  in 
the  navy,  in  the  great  civil  war.  The  romantic  narratives  of 
the  fortunes  and  exploits  of  the  brothers  are  thrilling  in  the 
extreme.  Historical  accuracy  in  the  recital  of  the  great 
events  of  that  period  is  strictly  followed,  and  the  result  is 
not  oi  "y  a  library  of  entertaining  volumes,  but  also  the  best 
histor3  -yf  the  civil  war  for  young  people  ever  written. 


OLIVER   OPTIC'S  BOOKS. 


THE  ONWARD  AND  UPWABD 

SERIES. 

Complete  iu  six  volumes.    Illustrated.    In  neat  iMn; 
Per  volume,  $l./i5. 


1.  FIELD  AND  FOREST; 

Or,  The  Fortanes  of  a  Fanner. 

8.  PLANE  AND  PLANK; 

Or,  The  JHlshaps  of  a  nechanio. 

A-  DESK  AND  DESIT; 

Or,  The  Catastrophes  of  a  Clerk. 

4.  CRINGLE  AND  CROSS-TREE; 

Or,  The  Sea  Swashes  of  a  Sailor. 

5.  BIVOUAC  AND  BATTLE; 

Or,  The  Struggles  of  a  Soldier. 

6.  SEA  AND  SHORE; 

Or,  The  Tramps  of  a  Traveller. 


Paul  Farringford,  the  hero  of  these  tales,  is,  like  most  of 
this  author's  heroes,  a  young  man  of  high  spirit,  and  of  high 
aims  and  correct  principles,  appearing  in  the  different  vol- 
umes as  a  farmer,  a  captain,  a  bookkeeper,  a  soldier,  a  sailor, 
and  a  traveller.  In  all  of  them  the  hero  meets  with  very 
exciting  adventures,  told  in  the  graphic  style  for  which  the 
author  is  famous.  —  Native. 


OLIVER  OPTICAS  BOOKS. 

THE   STARRY  FLAQ   SERIES. 

Six  volumes.    Illustrated.    Per  vol.   $l.aO, 


1.  THE  STARRY  FLAG; 

Or,  The  Young  Fishennan  of  Cape 

i.  BREAKING  AWAY; 

Or,  The  Fortunes  of  a  Student. 

S.  SEEK  AND  FIND ; 

Or,  The  Adventures  of  a  Smart  Boy. 

4.  FREAKS  OF  FORTUNE; 

Or,  Half  Round  the  World. 

5.  MAKE  OR  BREAK; 

Or,  The  Rich  Man*s  Daughter. 

6.  DOWN  THE  RIVER; 

Or,  Buck  Bradford  and  the  Tjrrantft 


Mr.  Adams,  the  celebrated  and  popular  writer,  familiarly 
known  as  "  Oliver  Optic,"  seems  to  have  inexhaustible  funcl« 
^r  weaving  together  the  virtues  of  life ;  and  notwithstanding 
he  has  written  scores  of  books,  the  same  freshness  and  nov- 
elty runs  through  them  all.  Some  people  think  the  sensa- 
tional element  predominates.  Perhaps  it  does.  But  a  lKX)k 
for  3'oung  people  needs  this :  and  so  long  as  good  sentiments 
fc/c  inculca  ced  such  books  ought  to  be  read. 


OLIVER  OPTIC'S  BOOKS. 


YACHT  CLUB  SERIES. 

iluifor^  wWx  tlie  ever  popular  *<  Boat  Club,**  Series,     Completed 
in  six  vols.    16mo.    Illustrated.    Per  vol.,  $1.50. 


1.  UTTLE  BOBTAIL; 

Or,  The  Wreck  of  the  Penobscot 

2.  THE  YACHT  CLUB; 

Or,  The  Young  Boat-Bnildera. 

8.  MONEY-MAKER; 

Or,  The  Victory  of  the  Basilisk. 

4.  THE  COMING  WAVE; 

Or,  The  Treasure  of  High  Rock. 

6.  THE  DORCAS  CLUB; 

Or,  Our  Girls  Afloat. 

6.  OCEAN  BORN; 

Or,  The  Cruise  of  the  Clubs. 


The  series  has  this  peculiarity,  that  all  of  its  constituent 
volumes  are  independent  of  one  another,  and  therefore  each 
gtory  is  complete  in  itself.  "Oliver  Optic'*  is  perhaps  the 
favorite  author  of  the  boys  and  girls  of  this  country,  and  he 
seems  destined  to  enjoy  an  endless  popularity.  He  deserves 
his  success,  for  he  makes  very  interesting  stories,  and  incul- 
cates none  but  the  best  sentiments;  and  the  "Yacht  Club" 
ifi  no  exception  to  this  rule. — New  Haven  Jour.  andCounefi. 


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